Still A Better Love Story Than Twilight
by I Can Dig Elvis
Summary: A never-ending series of Destiel, Sabriel, other pairings, family and friends ficlets. Warnings inside. Mostly fluff and angst, may contain character deaths.
1. Dean's Excuse to snuggle an angel

_**Dean's excuse to snuggle an angel.**_

His chest rose and fell in a calm manner as the sound of a soft snore coming from Sam filled the room; darkness overtook the space, with only a small ray of the streetlight that peeked through the window. He closed his eyes being unable to find sleep, though he felt exhausted, his muscles ached from the hunt of the week, and the wounds had yet to heal. He took a deep breath to relieve the pressure in his chest but it turned into a long yawn. He lolled on the bed as his head rested on the pillow, he closed his eyes just as the soft flutter wings echoed in the room, making him sit up rapidly.

"Cas?" he turned to the angel standing at a fair distance from the side of his bed. He could see a tint of pale rose on the angel's cheeks as if he'd been in the cold. "Where have you been?" he furrowed his brows as the angel sat on the edge of the bed.

"I was on a mission." he responded expressionless. Dean shifted on the bed feeling the coldness radiate from Castiel.

"A mission?"

"Yes, one of my brothers and I had to guard one of the gates of Heaven. It was temporary." he inserted his hands into the pockets of the trench-coat.

"Is that ice on your hair?" Dean reached towards Castiel, who followed with his eyes the hunter's hand. "Where the hell was that gate?" he examined the small icicle on his palm.

"Where humans would call _space._?" he nodded as if in thought, Dean seemed surprised.

"Okay, frosty, you're trembling from the cold, let's get you into something warm." he climbed off the bed, proceeding to stretch his arms.

"My grace will eventually warm my vessel."

"Yeah? How long will that take?"

"I don't know." he looked up at Dean like a confused child.

"You're freezing." He walked towards the angel, proceeding to place his hand on Castiel's forehead. "Dude, you're like an ice cube! Take all of that off."

"Dean, I'm fine." he protested.

"You wanna freeze to death?"

"I said I'm fine-"

"Take it off, Cas!" he raised his voice slightly, being careful not to wake up his brother. Castiel sighed and did as told, only leaving his pants on.

"How do you intend to restore the warmth to my body if I have no clothes on, Dean?"

"I have to give you some of my body heat." he shrugged, Castiel narrowed his eyes at the hunter in confusion. "C'mere." he extended his hand towards the angel; Castiel lay on the bed next to Dean, still in confusion yet he trusted the human.

He let his wings drop on from the bed, on the floor and he shook away the small icicles stuck to the feathers, his body trembled without him being able to control it. He felt as warm arms enveloped him as he often did with his wings but, it was much more pleasant; the heat radiating from Dean reached his own flesh and he could feel it travel throughout him, the gentle touch of flesh against flesh and the hot breath escaping Dean's lips on the side of his neck; it was different, a sensation that made him feel as though he were floating on water but there was no pressure crushing his lungs, nor the cold breeze to interrupt. Dean's arms reminded him of his own heaven, when he stood facing the light that illuminates all of what is, the light that hit his face with warmth and he closed his eyes, feeling as it wrapped him with something peaceful, so serene.

His eyelids fluttered open at the soft sound of a snore, he could sense the heart pumping inside the human's chest against his own; they collided. He let his eyes close once again as he took in the scent of Dean, lulling him to a light rest. He let out a small blow of air from his parted lips as he allowed one of his wings to fall over Dean and himself. The corners of his lips curled into a smile as he became lost in his heaven.

The sunlight hit his face, trespassing his eyelids yet all he could see was red. Dean shifted on the bed, letting out a soft groan; he stretched his body on the mattress but froze once he felt his palm touch a different texture than the sheets on his bed. It was a feather, a small feather under the blanket, and he pushed it away to see it. Feathers of different sizes, under the blanket, under the pillow and one under his shoulder; he smirked as he shook his head.

"Cas." He chuckled, "I'm keeping these." he smiled to himself.


	2. A song for you, a song for me

**DISCLAIMER: (forgot to do this on the first one) I do not own Supernatural or its characters, I do not make a profit from this, it is simply for sport.**

_**A Song For me, a song for you**_

He sat on the window seat, resting his head against the wall as the summer breeze kissed his face. His arms wrapped around his legs against his chest, his eyes concentrated on the graphite violating the impeccability of the paper; he was lost in his own universe as the music blared from the head phones and he moved his lips mimicking the lyrics. He jumped in surprise at the touch of a warm hand on his shoulder yet relaxed once he became aware of who it was.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Dean smiled apologetically, Castiel looked up at him shrugging it off.

"What are you listening to?" he frowned upon hearing the muffled sound of the song from his head phones. Castiel paused the song as he removed the device from his head, proceeding to pull Dean close to him.

"My favourite song." he smiled.

"You have a new favourite song every week, so which one is it this time?" he tangled his limbs with Castiel's as he positioned himself adjacent to the boy, being careful not to interrupt or ruin the art work on the paper.

"I do not!" he protested nudging Dean on the ribs playfully. "It is called 'You'll never be alone'" he held the headphones out for Dean to take.

"Don't tell me it's more of that hipster music crap." he frowned as he placed the device upon his head.

"Excuse meee!" he half glared, half scolded Dean with his eyes. "No, it isn't, I am certain you will like it!" he beamed with excitement, Dean shook his head at the boy's enthusiasm.

_'I'm the street lights that guide you home. _

_I'll be the GPS when you've lost your phone._

_I 'll be the song that 's rockin ' in your headphones_

_I 'll show you the signs to let you know you'll never be alone._

_Hey let me start it off by saying this,_

_You mean everything to me, nothin' I wouldn't _

_risk. Every single second or moment that passes by _

_I'm thinkin' about you and really wantyou to know that there's something more out there. _

_Something that will hold you very tight when you're scared, _

_cause I know when times get tough, and it starts to get rough. _

_It can feel like everything 's crashin'_

_down on ya.'_

Castiel smiled softly as he took Dean's hands into his, the other boy refusing to look him in the eye. He ran his lips softly along the red scars of different sizes on the wrists of the boy he loved; he had fought a battle, still was ,and, through it all Castiel would always whisper to him.

"You'll never be alone."


	3. Young Turks

_**Young Turks (inspired by the song itself)**_

_Young hearts be free tonight_

_Time is on your side~ Rod Stewart_

Dean left his home with a dollar in his pocket and a head full of dreams; he said, "somehow, some way, it's gotta get better than this."

Castiel packed his bags, left a note for his father, he was just seventeen. There were tears in his eyes when he kissed his little sister, Anna, goodbye. They held each other tight as they drove on through the night; they were so excited.

"Dean," he murmured as the music played quietly in the background. "Do you think this is right? We'll we be alright?" the older boy turned to Castiel with an assuring smile.

"We got just one shot of life, let's take it while we're still not afraid because life is so brief and time is a thief when you're undecided." he chuckled fixing his eyes back on the road, "And like a fistful of sand, it can slip right through your hands."

"They will never accept it or approve of us. My father, he disowned me." he looked down at his hands on his lap.

"Hey," Dean glanced at Castiel, "They don't matter, okay? We're together and we'll be fine. We can make it." he pat Castiel's knee with a smile, the younger boy returned it feeling safe and confident.

The windows rolled down, the cool air entering as it blew past their faces, the engine roaring, their young hearts beating free as the time passed and they became closer to their destination.

"Father never had confidence in me. He said it wasn't possible to enter the college I want to go to, he wanted me to be a pastor like him." Castiel sighed as he rested his head against the seat.

"Don't let him put you down, you can't let him push you around."

"He said being in love with you is a sin and I will be punished by God." Castiel frowned as he stared out the window, Dean swallowed bitterly yet smiled.

"What do _YOU_ think, Cas?" the younger boy fixed his eyes on Dean.

"I don't care, Dean. If loving you is a sin, let it be... I don't want to live without you." he whispered. His heart ached from the gentle smile that formed on Dean's lips."Don't let 'em ever change your point of view, Cas." he reached for Castiel's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Paradise was closed so they headed for the coast in a blissful manner. They took a two room apartment that was jumping every night of the week; Happiness was found in each other's arms as expected. Dean pierced his ears, drove the Impala like a lunatic.

He wrote a letter back home to Castiel's parents trying to explain; He said, _"We're both real sorry that it had to turn out this way but there ain't no point in talking when there's nobody listening so we just ran away."_ Reverend Novak ripped the letter to pieces and watched the paper turn to ashes in the fire.

Castiel was accepted into one of the best colleges in the state. Dean found a part time job as a mechanic and attended a community college ,got a degree in automotive mechanics and opened his own shop. Castiel never spoke with his father again, throughout the years, he had seen Anna once from the distance as she stood waiting for the school bus. He'd lost his family but gained a new one; the Winchesters. John forgave Dean for running away, Mary welcomed them with open arms and a homemade meal.

"He's my brother, Dean." Sam would say with a smile on his face proudly.

He had tears in his eyes as he kissed Dean one more time. They held each other tight as they drove through the night. The Impala's engine roared along the wild beating of their hearts, excited to start again, a married life.


	4. Fly, Angel

_**Fly, angel. **_

Dean is afraid of flying. He can feel his chest rise and fall rapidly as his hands tremble, tightening his grip on the arm rests; his vocal chords will not function as much as he tries to speak, nothing makes out. The aching in his chest, along with the flutter in the pit of his stomach do not help as he screams in his head to compose himself. He can smell his own fear, he can taste it on the tip of his tongue, and it angers him. He swallows hard, feeling the bitter taste of bile rising to his throat.

Perhaps the plane will crash, it will rip to pieces and the sky will swallow each passenger to spit them on the ground, perhaps the ocean. Perhaps he will survive the fall and land deep in the cold waters; he's drowning. His lungs are being compressed by the pressure of the water, he is running out of air, he is fighting for his life but the depth is sucking him in. It hurts, like a stinging burn somewhere down his throat to his lungs, he can feel his lungs freeze as he intakes more and more water through his nose, his mouth. The light is fading, it's becoming further and further away, so distant.. it is only a dot. The ocean envelopes him, he belongs to the sea, he belongs to the sea creatures where he'll reign for eternity.

Yet

He remembers as he opens his eyes, that it is not the sky that swallows him, it is not the sea who envelopes him and it is not the water he intakes that make it hurt. It is a pair of arms around him, it is the angel's wings pulling him closer and closer; he forgot to breathe, forgot to let go for a moment of Castiel but, how can he part from his lips when it is from an angel's breath he lives? Lying like this with him, with his angel, it's just like flying.. only safer.


	5. The Night Is Long, The Day Is Longer

_**The Night Is Long, The Day Is Longer **_

Everything is darkness, but he's been there before. He has felt the coldness in his bones and in his heart. He has seen the ashes being carried away by the wind and everything disappears, everything becomes another story to tell.

He longs for every moment, to relive or stop here. They are the corpses, they are the ones who speak softly in the wind. They haunt him even as they are in paradise. They are engraved inside him, he is tinted with their blood; they are all dead.

He brings his knees closer to his chest, hating how the thump of his heart feels against it; he wants to stop it. Why won't it stop? He can hear it in his head, loud, louder, like thunder. Each beat is torture.

He is breaking, Dean is breaking and he fights the urge to cry.

You promised Hell, and you promised Heaven. He sees himself, only five, "When I grow up I want to be a hero. Dad, you're a hero."

"You can't save everyone, my friend. Though you try."

But it's okay, Dean. It's alright, they are fine; they found paradise, and you did your best. They know, inside, in their heavens, you are a hero.

He can not help but pull the angel closer to him, if just for a moment, it's okay to be weak. It's okay to be held.. because one day, they will need him to return it, and he knows this.


	6. In Your Daddy's Arms

_**In your Daddy's arms**_

There was a pine tree at the top of the hill, tallest among all. The fresh scent travelled in the air as the breeze softly blew; he closed his eyes as he inhaled, feeling as it passed away, making the hairs on the vessel stand on end. It was peculiar, different yet fascinating to be able to take pleasure in such a small thing. He felt the muscles on his face warp, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile. A smile? Fascinating.

He stretched his wings out on the air, being careful to not tangle them in the pine tree branches around him. A quiet groan escaped from his lips as the muscles contracted then relaxed.

He remembered once, as a fledgling, Castiel said to him while he was learning to fly but crashed against a pine tree; _"Do not be afraid to fly, Samandriel, even when you crash you will never perish because father holds you in his arms."_

_"Where is father? I wish to see him for at least once." he stared at Castiel with a twinkle of innocence in his eyes._

_"Perhaps one day." he lifted the fledgling in his arms, he fixed Samandriel's hair as well as his wings, taking away the leaves and sticks._

_"Castiel, father loves me as much as thee?" he tilted his head to look at the older angel into his eyes._

_"Yes, he loves all his children and his creation." his grace wrapped him in warmth seeing Samandriel's grace glow with an emotion he'd felt before; happiness._

"Father," Samandriel lifted his gaze to the sky as his wings wrapped around his vessel, "Thou holds us all in thy arms. Never let me perish." he swallowed, "Please, save Castiel."


	7. You Are My Star

_**You are my star**_

Castiel enjoys watching the stars. He feels closer to home as he gazes at them, admiring each one he knows was once his own brethren. They twinkle incessantly, as if smiling at the angel; he can't help but wonder if he will soon join them. What will he do? How will Dean know which star is Castiel? How will the human know it is the angel staring back as he star gazes on a cold, painful night?

He feels cold, he has never felt so cold; his wings fold behind his back, sagging. His grace flickers inside, but Dean can't see, nor Sam, nor any of the other humans around. He quietly whispers a prayer to his father, hoping somewhere in everything he created, wherever he might be, that he listens. His heart, or the heart of his vessel- no, it is his body now, Jimmy is gone; it beats and he listens. It is alive for a reason.

He brings his hand to his chest, feeling as it keeps pumping blood throughout the body, and a small smile forms on his lips as he remembers when he lies on the motel bed at night and the hunter, his human, lays close beside him. Their limbs intertwined, their arms protectively around their torsos and Dean's ear is always there, to listen, to keep reminding himself that Castiel is alive. As long as he is alive, everything is okay. They'll be okay.

_Even when I am a star in heaven, I will watch over you._


	8. The Most Beautiful In Heaven

_**The Most Beautiful In Heaven**_

"Lucifer, please stop." Castiel says irritated, Lucifer smirks and continues to play with the younger Angel's wings. Castiel sighs and slouches his shoulders in defeat.

"Little Cassie is not happy?" he mocks in a high pitched voice, Castiel glares at him wishing to smite him.

"This isn't funny, Lucifer." he folds his arms across his chest glaring at the wall, Lucifer laughs and stretches Castiel's wings in admiration of their span.

"How come dad gave you larger wings than everyone else?" he frowns as he keeps the wings stretched, Castiel rolls his eyes yet answers passively.

"Because I was destined to fly to Hell and rescue the righteous man, now, could you stop touching them? It is rather uncomfortable."

"No." he does not even look at his brother but continues admiring the Angel's wings. "Wouldn't it be a shame if they were white as the other angels'?" he seemed pensive for a moment, Castiel's eyes widened in horror.

"Don't you dare." he growls but it is too late, Lucifer has poured peroxide over them, it mixes along with Castiel's grace which causes him pain. "You will pay for this." he groans.

"Come on! It's funny!" he laughs scrunching his face. He feels his grace shake inside of him at the presence of another Angel coming into the room.

"Lucifer!" Michael stands in the middle of the room with his fists at his sides, Lucifer sighs.

"What, Mikie?" he snarls, the oldest Angel steps forward, then glances at Castiel.

"Did Father not tell you to behave?" he speaks in a firm voice, Castiel is holding himself against the wall, attempting to hide his wings embarrassed and hoping his superior has not seen.

"I am behaving." he shrugs.

"Stop picking on our younger brother." he gives another step forward, making Lucifer step back with a frown.

"I didn't do anything to him." he pouts, Michael's expression twists into a glower.

"Stop right now or I will be obliged to throw you into the Mediterranean sea." he growls, Lucifer senses the seriousness in his brother's tone and nods before disappearing. Michael glances at Castiel who has lowered his head feeling embarrassed; his wings have light patches, white patches and dark patches all over. "Castiel." he nods and the Angel looks up, "I apologise for what he has done, your wings were truly the most beautiful in Heaven."

"I suppose their colour will be restored after the feathers fall off." he sighs in despondency. Michael knits his eyebrows feeling slight guilt and pity at the younger Angel's misfortune; it pains him seeing the younger Angel's grace flicker. A thought, rather a memory flashes through his mind and he recalls the many times he found the fledgling in his own heaven, a small smile forms on his lips of how he always knew Castiel would be there, sitting by the roses he himself had planted and he would watch the birds fly in the sky above, his small, dark wings would flap attempting to fly yet he couldn't.

"Would you like to accompany me? I was about to go home, to my heaven." he extends his wings to fly, Castiel lifts up his head up with a small smile.

"I would like that."


	9. He Will Be Loved

_**He Will Be Loved**_

**WARNINGS: physical/domestic abuse, implied sexual abuse, violence.**

Her auburn locks dropped down to her breasts, bouncing as she swayed to the music; her cherry lips curling into a wide smile, showing her pearly-white teeth. Her ivory complexion so smooth, delicately adorned by a green, silk dress down to her knees. Her hips swayed sensually, making the men in the room desire her yet she ignored each one, focusing upon the man she was committed to.

He sat on the stool, slouching his shoulders as his heart thumped loudly in his chest with the loud music in the room; his hands trembled, he took in deep breaths to calm himself yet it was difficult with the strong arm pulling around his waist and he was certain it would add to the bruises around his body he tried so hard to hide.

* * *

"You looked beautiful out there, Anna." Dean extended his arms for her to go to, he curled them around her thin waist and she lifted up her chin to reach his lips.

"Thank you," she smiled as she kissed him briefly, "I wasn't sure how I would manage to dance in these heels." she looked down at her feet.

"Well, you did a great job." he smiled. She leant into him as he wrapped his arms around her; the music in the room continued, changing from song to song until Anna decided to sit on one of the stools with a drink in her hand; Dean kept the conversation with her light since she focused mostly on the music and her friends around; he glanced around the room until his eyes landed upon a young man about Anna's age and three years younger than him. Their eyes met briefly before the other looked away as he was pulled closer to the man holding him, a small frown formed on Dean's face.

"Dean." Anna touched his arm gently.

"Sorry?" he blinked twice before turning to her.

"Are you okay?" she furrowed her brows.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he smiled, she returned it gently.

"Okay, I'm going to the women's room, I'll be right back." she stood up to leave with one of her friends, leaving Dean by himself.

He glanced around the room with no interest until he remembered the young man at the opposite side of it, he was alone. Dean watched carefully as he shifted in his seat, pressing his hands together and avoiding anyone's eyes, he clumsily lifted up his glass of water to his lips, spilling some on his shirt and he sighed. He lifted up his head to look around the place when he noticed the same man staring at him again, a small smile formed on his lips, his heart beat rapidly for a moment as the other man returned it.

Long minutes passed as they conversed through hand signs, Castiel smiled widely as he tried to decipher what Dean was saying until both burst out laughing. His happiness did not last, since he felt a possessive hand pull at him and he flinched. He could smell the alcohol, the tobacco and the strong scent of cheap cologne on him, it made him dizzy, nauseous, he could not breathe; he was trapped and he wanted out but his body shut down as he awaited for the man stop kissing his lips. How he wanted to run, run far away without stopping, perhaps his feet would bleed and he would die somewhere; he hoped. But no, he kept quietly submissive as the man kissed his lips, his jaw, his neck; he was filthy, corrupted, oh so sinful.

Dean clenched his fists at his sides as he watched the possessive man take advantage of the young man as if he were an object; he hated Balthazar with all his might, and he only wished Castiel would leave him. _"I can help you, please, just leave him. You don't have to go through all this crap because you deserve better than him." _He meant every word, he would not hesitate to save Castiel if only the other asked but, it never happened.

"I'm tired, we should go home." he turned to see Anna next to him. Her cheeks were flushed than they had been before, her hair slightly messy and her chest rising up and down as if she'd been running, a drop of sweat ran down her neck to her clavicle, and he had long ago convinced himself it was only his imagination.

"Yeah. Okay, I gotta work in the morning anyway." he planted a smile on his face before jumping off the stool.

* * *

He sat on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hands as he listened to the heavy rain hit the glass of the window, he retrieved the book from the coffee table and leant against the cushions, resting his arm on the armrest. He was pathetic for missing her yet, he felt relieved; he was broken, shattered but he always lifted up his head and pretended everything was alright because he had to be alright. He was Dean Winchester after all.

A laugh escaped from his lips as his eyes landed on a glove resting on the opposite side of where he was; she would come back for it, she always would come back and he would be there, waiting for her with open arms as she wept claiming to _love _him, to _need _him. It was a cycle that would never end and every time he would convince himself, _'this is the end.' _But only, it never was.

He inhaled the scent of coffee as he took a deep breath to ease the ache in his chest, his fingers tapped around the cup in his hands and his eyelids closed as he listened to each drop crash against the pavement, against the glass. His mind wandered around memories, around his brother Sam who lived happily with his fiancé. How had it been that easy for him? Perhaps Jessica was Sam's soul mate but, he did not believe in things like these. How had his parents been together after all those years? Why him? What was wrong with him? He was not worth it; only a waste of life.

He was interrupted from his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell and he could not help a small laugh escaping him as he thought, _'Are you here to stay now?' _He sighed exhaustedly as his hand turned around the handle of the door but the air caught in his throat as his eyes met with the frightened ones staring at him. His clothes drenched from the rain, his bloody lips almost blue and his body trembled from the cold.

"Cas." he frowned as he pulled his friend into the apartment. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I'm sorry, Dean, I'm so sorry but I have no one else to go to." he covered his mouth with one hand as his body continued to tremble; his knuckles were bruised, bleeding, his body adorned with many patches of different hues of purple, yellow and brown.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Come on." his arms wrapped around Castiel as the other wept on his shoulder. It didn't matter that he would later have to clean the water from the floor, it didn't matter that his clothes were getting wet and it didn't matter that Castiel tightening his grip on his arms. "Let's get you clean." Castiel nodded before composing himself to follow Dean into his room.

"I stole his car and drove for miles and miles but I had to reach you. I had to come to you, Dean, I can't-" he gasped for air, feeling he would choke on the tears he was holding back, "He was going to kill me." he wrapped his hands around his neck as the memory flashed through his mind, "I- I think I broke his arm." he choked out a laugh.

"He deserved it and more than that." he shook his head as he helped Castiel clean the blood from his face.

"Thank you, for everything, Dean." he managed to smile even though it hurt, Dean pulled Castiel close to him in comfort.

"Will you finally stay, Cas? Like you did once?" he whispered.

His hands felt warm against Castiel's skin, they trembled as they moved down his body with a tender touch. His lips gently breaking him, trailing against his flesh, down to his clavicle, his teeth leaving marks everywhere; flesh against flesh burning, mending like clay in the oven. It was a beautiful broken vase turned into sand to be made into a new piece again, just to be broken later.

He shut the door quietly. _"I will be back, Dean."_


	10. Mercy Street

_**Mercy Street**_

He looked at his pocket watch one more time as he quickened his pace, his hands firmly holding the briefcase as he made his way through the crowd. It was a late winter morning, the skies were dark, the temperature low, and the cold wind blew merciless. The smoke rose to the skies from the chimneys and faded along with the clouds above, the lack of silence in the streets, the birds chirping loudly from the leafless branches, the chatter among the street vendors or people on the streets going to work, the children playing in the puddles of cold water and the roaring of engines filling the air. He cleared his throat, having skipped his morning meal and his coffee, it was dry.

"Good morrow, Mr. Winchester!" a man called from a small shop as he arranged flowers on bouquets by the window.

"Morning to you, Garth!" he waved.

"Running late?" he rested his hands on his sides as he chuckled.

"Uh, yes. First time in a long time, the boss is not going to be happy." he shook his head. "I better run before I miss the bus!" he waved one last time before he turned to leave.

"You be careful and have a good day!"

"You too!" he responded from a distance.

He stood by the bench at the bus stop on Mercy Street alone, he could hear the children playing somewhere in the distance, a dog barking, a cat meowing, a man selling newspaper announcing the headline loudly. He fixed his tie and jacket, dusting away anything that might make him look less professional, a sound of footsteps close to him made him lift his head to find a man of his own age coming his way. He wore a dark suit, a dark blue tie, and a tan trench coat; his hair stood up messily and there was not a definite expression on his face.

"Morning." Dean gave the man a small nod, the man turned to look at him indifferently yet responded with a small nod, making him seem arrogant. "You must be new in town, never seen you before." he remarked, the other man stared straight ahead without responding. "I'm Dean, Dean Winchester." he extended his hand for the man to shake, he looked at Dean's hand as if questioning whether he should or should not take his hand but decided to do so.

"Castiel Novak." he responded in a husky voice.

"Novak?" Dean frowned as he tried to remember where he had heard the surname before. "Novak. You don't happen to have a brother, do you?" he stared at Castiel awaiting for a response.

"For a stranger, you ask too much." Dean's smile faded and he decided to keep to himself as he waited for the bus. "Yes, I do have a brother. Gabriel Novak." he turned to Dean expressionless. "I apologise, I am having rather a difficult morning." he looked at the floor.

"Hey, it's fine." Dean shrugged with a small smile. "I've been there." he took his pocket watch one more time to see the time, the bus should be there in five minutes. "I know Gabriel, he's one of my co-workers." he grinned.

"Oh." he tilted his head slightly, "Perhaps you could assist me, I just moved here and I start to work with your company today." a smile crept on Dean's lips.

"Of course, I'll show you around the building until you get the hang of it, introduce you to everyone. It's a great place." he grinned, Castiel glanced at the floor, then at Dean and smiled.

"I guess you are no longer a stranger then, Dean Winchester."

"Guess not." he gave a small nod with a smile.

Monday through Saturday, Dean would hurry to the bus stop, greeting friends along the way. Always the suitcase, always the suits, always the same routine yet he never tired. On Mercy Street, Castiel stood in his tan trench coat, waiting for Dean to arrive.


	11. A Rose For Dean Winchester

_**A Rose For Dean Winchester**_

**I want to thank all of you who review, favourite and follow. It inspires me to keep writing these fics. **

**The continuation of _Don't Stop Believing_ will be posted soon, just bear with me (: thank you again.**

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the rough surface against his face, he heat from the pavement and the pressure on his back. His left side of the face was beginning to bruise, his nose bled without stopping, his elbows stung from all the scratches yet he remained strong, willing to take it all and hoping it would end soon.

"Come on, Novak! I thought you were a guy not a sissy!" the boy sitting on Castiel's back spoke as he chuckled.

"This doesn't make you tough, Dean, it only makes you a bully." Castiel groaned as he attempted to push Dean off him. "You are a coward."

"What did you call me?" he clenched his jaw as well as his fists. "You haven't learned your lesson, have you?" he feigned a smile. He wrapped one of his arms around Castiel's neck, pulling it back until Castiel screamed in pain.

"Dean!" a boy younger than both of them stood on the other side of the street with tears building in his eyes as he held a toy car tightly in his hands. "Let him go." his eyes twinkled with sadness as he pleaded to his brother to release the boy.

"Sammy, we're just playing." he smiled, "See? He's okay." he raised his hands as he stood up from Castiel's back.

"He's bleeding! You hurt him again! You said you wouldn't do it again, you lied!" he stomped his foot on the pavement, allowing the tears to spill from his eyes.

"Hey, hey, calm down. I'm sorry, okay?" he wrapped his arms around his brother bringing him closer to him.

"You said you wouldn't hurt him again. I don't like it." he rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"Sammy, I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again."

Castiel stood up from the sidewalk as he attempted to stop the bleeding from his nose, his eyes focused on the small boy holding the toy car in his hands and Dean holding him close. Though for many years he had been a victim of his neighbour's abuse, he could not hate him, he could not find it in himself to hate Dean Winchester as much as he tried to. He knew the story, and he pitied him.

Dean had often hid in the tree house between the Novak and Winchester's yard at night; Castiel lay awake, staring at the stars through his window when he first heard quiet sobs coming from outside. It was not one time, it was not once a week, it was almost everyday. He had once escaped through the window, climbed up the tree into the dark, cold and small tree house where Dean had fallen asleep with tears in his eyes. Who would not cry having lost their mother? Who would not cry being only eleven and responsible for a younger brother? Castiel extended the blanket he had brought along over Dean's body to stop him from shivering, he sighed before whispering goodnight to the boy, then left.

He understood him. It was okay, he would take the beatings for Dean, he would let his body be used to relieve the other boy's pain, he knew it was wrong, far wrong but he hoped one day it would all stop, one day Dean's grief would fade and so would the bruises on his body. For today, it was for Dean.

_**One month later**_

"I'm sorry, Cas." he whispered quietly. "I-" he hesitated as his hands trembled, "I never meant to, I-" a sob escaped from his lips, "I promised Sammy I wouldn't, I promised him."

"Dean." Castiel held the boy's hand tightly, feeling the warm fluid stick to his clothes, "I know." he whispered quietly.

"Sammy." his voice was coarse and broken, "Sam, take care of Sam." he held on to Castiel's hand with all the strength he had left in him, Castiel attempted to keep calm but was unable to fight the tears from his eyes as he nodded.

"I will. I promise." he pressed his forehead against Dean's as the other boy coughed blood from his mouth, and the light faded from his eyes. Castiel could not hear the sound of sirens approaching, nor the paramedics yelling, nor the dog from across the street howling, nor the voices around him; only the last beat from Dean's heart.

"Hey, Dean." a smile curled on the boy's lips, "I graduated today from Stanford." he blinked away the tears, "I know you would've been proud." He sniffled, "Dad is." he laughed as tears spilled from his eyes, "And Cas." he played with the rose between his hands. "He... after all this time, he is still here, you know." he pressed his lips into a thin line. "He never toldy you the truth, he never told me or you." he chuckled, "But I know, I know." he looked up the sky as the tears kept falling. "I think- I think he never told you because he was scared but he's here today and- I think he's ready." he wiped the tears from his eyes as the placed the rose on the cold tombstone, then turned to face Castiel behind him.

"Hello, Dean." he looked at his hands that held a white rose. "I took care of Sam, like I promised you." he smiled softly, "I know you would be proud of him as I am." he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the warmth of the sun hit the side of his face, "I want to tell you that- we were only eleven, I could not comprehend what this- this was." a sob escaped from his mouth as his grip tightened on the rose. "But I know now, that after all these years, after all this time, this feeling is still there. And I know- I know that I love you." he broke into sobs, his body trembled and the ache in his chest left him breathless, almost compressing his lungs painfully. "And I always will. Just wait for me, okay?" he knelt down to place the rose next to the one Sam had left. "I miss you, I hope to see you again someday."


	12. Do You Like Milkshakes?

_**Do You Like Milkshakes? **_

He picked at the crust of the pastry on the plate before him, his fingers gripping the fork tighter than he should as the obnoxious music in the background played and he wondered when in time did everything go wrong, why the music preferences changed drastically, or when did it begin to evolutionise that no one had dared stop it. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cinnamon, apple, coffee, sausage, hash browns, ham, eggs and bacon; his stomach growled quietly and he chuckled as he took the first bite of his meal.

"What is a handsome man like you doing alone on this day?" he looked up to find a petite blonde staring at him with an innocent smile. He smiled widely at the compliment before glancing at the name tag on her chest.

"Well, Jo, can I call you Jo?" he furrowed his brows, she nodded with a smile. "Let's just say it ain't my thing. Valentines is just a conspiracy to get people to buy all this crap." he laughed, Jo shook her head with a chuckle.

"Or you just don't have a girl to spend it with, am I right..?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Dean."

"Dean." she nodded.

"Not really into women." he intertwined his fingers as his hands rested on the counter and a small smile formed on his lips. Jo nodded comprehending.

"I take it you're not a 'relationship' guy." Jo raised her brow as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Not really." he shook his head with a small smile, "What about you?"

"I've got a date." she shrugged, "After my shift ends." she glanced at the watch around her wrist.

"Well lucky you!" he responded with no particular emotion.

"Tell you what," she pressed her lips into a thin line, "What's your type?" she tilted her head as her eyes narrowed.

"I don't really have a type." he shrugged.

"Perfect!" she clapped her hands contentedly. "I'll be right back!" she disappeared around the corner before Dean could respond.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as REO Speedwagon played in the background, he took another bite from his food, savoring the bacon and hashbrowns on his taste buds. His eyes glanced around the room; there was a teenage couple sitting at a booth sharing an ice cream soda, an elderly man drinking a cup of coffee as he read a book, a traveller eating pancakes, a couple of old men drinking coffee and laughing every now and then at the things they said, two women sitting together as they discussed some things Dean could not hear and other people on the side of the room which Dean could not see.

"Oh come on, he's not gonna bite!" he heard Jo's voice whispering. "Come on, don't make me take away your book, I will put it in the fire!"

"Fine." another voice whispered.

"Dean!" Jo smiled as she tugged on a man's arm behind her.

"Jo." he smiled with his lips pressed together.

"This," she pulled the man closer to her, "is my friend Castiel." she grinned as she pushed him towards Dean. Castiel stood before Dean awkwardly with his arms hanging at his sides, the trench coat he wore was too big for his body, his hair messy as if he had been running for miles, he wore a white dress shirt, a dark blue tie, a black vest with a jacket and black trousers.

"Nice to meet you, Castiel. I'm Dean Winchester." he extended his hand towards the timid man.

"It is very nice to meet you too, Dean Winchester. Castiel Novak." a small smile formed on his chapped lips and Dean smiled at the gesture.

"So," Jo interrupted, "He's single on valentines day, you're single on valentines day, I'm gonna leave you two alone." she clapped with a grin on her face before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I apologise about Jo, she can be quite gregarious and forward." Castiel spoke in a mortified tone, Dean shrugged with a smile hoping Castiel would stay.

"It's fine, I like her." he nodded with a grin. "Aren't you going to sit down?" he glanced at the stool beside him, then at Castiel who hesitated before giving in.

"I apologise if I lack in words, socialising is rather a difficulty to me." he fixed his eyes everywhere but Dean as he played with the cuffs of the trench coat.

"That's okay. I'll do the talking then, just tell me to shut up if I bore you." Dean chuckled, Castiel smiled widely making the corners of his eyes wrinkle. Dean stared at the man for a few more seconds admiring his features before looking away. "Are you a professor? You look like one."

"Yes, I teach Physics at the local university." he looked at his hands.

"Whoa, some brains you got." he tsked, Castiel remained stoic, not comprehending whether Dean had complimented or insulted his intelligence. "That was a compliment, Cas." he added as he received no response from the man.

"Cas?" he tilted his head slightly as his brows furrowed.

"Sorry, nickname, Castiel is too long of a name. Do you mind if I call you Cas?"

"Not at all." he shook his head smiling, "I like it."

"Great!" he smiled back, "So you're a professor?"

"Yes, I have been working at the university for five years. Jo, in fact, was one of my students my first year." he glanced at the woman attending customers at a booth.

"Did you happen to have a student named Sam Winchester?" Castiel narrowed his eyes pensively.

"I do not remember, perhaps not." he shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

"He's my brother." he smiled proudly, straightening his shoulders and his back. "He's a student at Stanford. He's got the brains in the family, me? Not so much." Castiel furrowed his brows as he stared at Dean.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not stupid but I'm not smart as him." he shrugged.

"What is your profession?"

"Aviation mechanics." he pressed his lips into a thin line, "kind of ironic," he narrowed his eyes staring at the ceiling, "I hate flying yet I make them. I guess I can only trust my work."

"You are quite interesting, Dean." Castiel shook his head with a chuckle.

"I can say the same about you." he grinned. "You like milkshakes, Cas?"

"Milkshakes?" Castiel squinted at Dean, "I have only tried them once, they are too sweet for my palate, I prefer tea or coffee instead." Dean frowned as if offended.

"Dude, no, milkshakes are the best." he waved at Jo who was close by, "Hey Jo, can I get a milkshake?" she glanced at Castiel, then at Dean and back at Castiel.

"Sure thing!" she smiled widely. "I'll be right back."

"You are going to make me try it, aren't you, Dean?" Castiel facepalmed himself.

"That's right!" he chuckled, "No one can resist a milkshake."

"Dean, I-"

"No, you're trying it." he pat Castiel gently on the shoulder.

"Very well." he rolled his eyes, "You just met me and you are going to try to make me drink a milkshake. Where are you going with this, Dean?" a small smirk formed on his lips, his elbow rested on the counter putting the pressure of his body upon it; Dean pursed his lips in thoughts.

"I don't know." he turned to Castiel raising his brows, "Where do YOU want to go?" Castiel remained silent as well as Dean staring at each other's expressions. The corners of his lips curled into a small smile, Castiel looked at his hands before looking up at Dean.

"Wherever you want to take me." he drew his bottom lip between his teeth slightly. "I'll take the milkshake." Dean grinned widely as the flutter in his stomach settled.

"I'm glad to hear that." he scooted closer to Castiel, their knees touched, and he swore his heart would explode in that moment. Perhaps it beat too loud, or perhaps it was Castiel's.


	13. Hush Little Angel

_**Hush Little Angel **_

He stretched his wings as far as they would give, feeling the breeze blow through them; the light that illuminated Heaven hit the side of his face, and he closed his eyes to shield them since even for divine beings like him, it was too bright for their retinas. The clouds did not move in any direction, all was still; the birds sang their melodies quietly, the bushes dancing with the wind, and the voices of millions, millions of angels was his heaven. He sat down on the bench beside the rose bushes to admire the beauty of the place yet could not accomplish it since he felt a slight disturbance in his grace. The feathers on his left wing were being caressed, and though he could not see the intruder he knew who it was.

"Lucifer, stop!" he spoke with annoyance; there was no trace of the younger archangel but Michael could sense his grace. The caressing of his wing continued until he felt a feather being pulled, causing him to hiss in pain. "Lucifer, stop!" his voice thundered throughout his heaven. His eyes scanned around the garden for any sign of his brother but he only heard quiet sobbing close to him.

"Wow, and they call me a dick." Lucifer manifested himself beside Michael. "You should consider anger management." he raised his brows as he walked towards the other side of the older archangel; he knelt on the grass with his arms reaching out and Michael tilted his head in confusion, then understood.

"Did that mean archangel scare you?" Lucifer pouted as he held the fledgling in his arms, Samandriel nodded as he rubbed his eyes and wrapped his undeveloped wings around him.

"Lucifer, what is he doing here?" Michael glanced between Lucifer and Samandriel.

"Gabriel is babysitting today and this one escaped, he's still looking for him." he chuckled; Samandriel rested his head upon the archangel's shoulder as sleep began to overtake him.

"They are not allowed out of the nursery, father will not be pleased about this." he walked towards his brothers.

"But Samandriel wanted to see you." he furrowed his brows, "It seems most of the fledglings prefer you." he rolled his eyes; a small smile formed on Michael's lips.

"May I hold Samandriel?" he hesitated before reaching towards Lucifer.

"Don't wake him up though, he cries if he doesn't get his nap." Michael nodded being careful as he took Samandriel from his brother's arms.

"Isn't he adorable?" Lucifer folded his arms across his chest as he sat next to the older archangel. Michael extended his wings before wrapping them protectively around himself and Samandriel. Lucifer stared in amazement how gentle Michael was with the fledgling, how their grace seemed to connect even though Samandriel was asleep, he was aware of who held him.

"Should we take him back to the nursery?" Lucifer whispered to Michael.

"I will." he raised his head, "In a moment. I want to hold him for a while." he smiled gently. Lucifer shook his head with a smile before throwing his head back, closing his eyes and humming to a melody Michael used to sing to him as kids.

Samandriel felt his grace warm his celestial body, he buried his nose on the crook of Michael's neck as he lost himself in the quiet humming from Lucifer and the warmth from Michael's wings.


	14. Wanna Race?

_**Wanna Race? **_

He rolled the window down to allow the air to enter, the temperature was too high and unbearable. He brought his hand to his forehead to wipe away a drop of sweat; Thunderstruck blasted full volume from the speakers, his thumbs tapping along the rhythm and his lips mimicking the lyrics.

Everything was dust, miles upon miles of mountains of dust, tumbleweeds, carcasses of dead animals or rotting cacti. His eyes scanned ahead, noticing a rippled silhouette on the side of the road in the distance, he narrowed his eyes to see better. He slowed his speed once he was closer to the silhouette, rather a person fixing a car. He turned down the volume as he came to a halt next to the 1970

Black Chevelle, model SS454.

"Hey, need any help with that?" he removed his sunglasses to take a better look at the stranger.

"I think I've got it handled, thanks." the man responded without looking at the other.

"You sure'bout that? Doesn't seem like it." he raised his brows and his lips parted slightly, showing his front teeth gently touching the bottom lip. The stranger turned to look at him this time, removing his glasses; he folded his arms across his chest as he eyed the man in the car, upon noting no mischief, rather sincerity, he nodded.

"Yeah, okay." he took his bottom lip between his teeth as the other man stepped out of the car.

He fixed his eyes on the stranger, glancing at him from head to toe; he wore black leather pants, a sleeveless, black top, leather jacket with wings tattooed on the back and black heavy boots; his hair messed into different directions, perhaps from the wind, and he had a piercing on his left earlobe. A small smirk formed on his lips as he walked around the man with the tight leather pants, not removing his eyes from him even as the other stood facing the other direction.

"Are you checking out my ass?" the other questioned with a head tilt and a hidden smile as he turned around.

"I wasn't." he shook his head with an eye roll and a smirk.

"Right." he leant against the car. "I'm Castiel Novak, by the way."

"Dean Winchester." he looked up from the car's engine to Castiel.

"Dean Winchester, that's an interesting name." he glanced around the desert and back to Dean.

"Says a guy named Castiel." he chuckled. "What kind of a name is that anyway?" he stared at Castiel waiting for a response.

"It's an angel's name." he smirked.

"That explains a lot." he chuckled as he worked on the car.

"Explains what?" he raised his brow, he rested his arms on the car, shifting his weight upon them. Dean glanced at Castiel's body, noticing how visible his muscles were through the leather pants.

"Nothing." he chuckled and continued with his task.

"You know, you're not exactly being discrete." he smirked smugly. Dean chuckled, feeling heat rise from his neck to his face.

"Okay, you got me." he raised his hands in defense. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" Castiel narrowed his eyes to shield them from the sun, he glanced at Dean up and down quietly before stepping closer to him. He bent over to Dean's level where he was working on the engine, and whispered to his ear.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" Dean could feel the hairs on his body stand on end from Castiel's hot breath on his ear. He dropped the tool in his hand to stare at Castiel with a smirk.

"It makes me uncomfortable in a way." he shrugged. "Wanna race?"

"You fixed it?" he glanced at the engine, then at Dean.

"Go start it." he smiled. Castiel turned the key, hoping it worked, and smiled once he wasn't disappointed.

"You're good." he smiled.

"I'm good at a lot of things." he chuckled. "You wanna race then?"

"Sure." he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"If you lose, I'll buy you dinner." he ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip.

"And if you lose?" Dean pursed his lips in thought.

"If I lose, I'm still gonna buy you dinner." Castiel bit his bottom lip as he shook his head.

"Prepare to lose, Dean Winchester." he put on his sunglasses as he entered his car. Dean chuckled as he walked to his car, not worrying whether he lost or won, rather what they should have for dinner.

"I think I'll win either way." he winked at Castiel.


	15. The Beach

**Don't Stop Believing will be reposted later with the third part. I apologise for the delay. **

**Thank you for reading, reviewing, following and adding to favourites (:**

**P. S. they are eleven years old and fifty years pass. **

_**The Beach **_

He stared up at the sky as it spun around him, only a blur of clouds, the blue, the seagulls and the horizon. His feet moved buried in the sand, creeping between his toes; he inhaled the salty scent of the sea, the smell of marine life, the mould and algae crawling on the rocks by the shore. Laughter escaped from him as he fell, landing on his back against the sand. He lay still for a long time, listening to the waves come and go, hitting the shore, the seagulls fight in the distance, his calm breathing and his heart beating. The sun was hidden by the dark clouds, and the temperature was mild yet he shivered slightly, making the hairs on his body stand on end.

He opened his eyes, blinked twice, then sat up when he heard movement on the sand, small steps approaching towards him. He noticed a boy about his own age carrying a camera with a strap around his neck dragging his feet along the sand, his head lowered and tears streaming down his face.

"Are you okay?" he pushed himself up with his arms and walked towards the boy.

"Huh?" he looked up at the stranger, he brought his hand to his face to wipe away the tears and smiled as best as he could, yet the sadness was deep in his eyes. "I'm fine." he nodded, his hair moved up and down.

"Why are you crying? Are you lost?" he stepped closer towards him in concern.

"I'm not lost." he glanced around him, "I'm just visiting my family." he smiled painfully as he swallowed his tears. "And that makes me sad."

"Why does it make you sad?" he squinted at the boy.

"Because they probably don't know I miss them." he took his bottom lip between his teeth to stop it from trembling. Dean sighed comprehending what the boy meant, and he remembered the story told in town that a few years ago a car crashed and fell off the cliff into the sea; they had found a young boy unconscious on the shore.

"That's not true." he gave a small smile, "Mum always said the ones you love are always watching you from up there." he looked up at the sky with a smile. "I know mum is up there." the other boy fixed his eyes upon the immense sky and suddenly, it was not so empty as he thought.

"You really think they are up there?" he smiled.

"I know it." he glanced at the boy, "I always talk to my mum." he pressed his lips together, "Hi mum!" he waved at the sky.

"Can she see me?" they looked at each other and smiled.

"Of course she can." he looked at the sky again, "Mum, I want you to meet someone." he turned to the boy to whisper, "Tell her who you are." the other nodded.

"Hello!" he waved with a smile, "My name is Castiel. Your son is very nice." he looked at the boy.

"I'm Dean." he grinned as he extended his hand. "I like your name, Castiel."

"Thank you." he shook Dean's hand, and then inserted both into his pockets. "Do you want to be my friend? I don't have many friends, so you are special." he looked at his feet.

"We are already friends." Dean smiled. "Is that yours?" he pointed at the camera.

"It was my father's but it's mine now. Do you want me to take a photo of you?" he smiled with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Let's take it together." he suggested. Castiel nodded in agreement as he removed the strap from around his neck, Dean stepped closer to the boy, pressing his small frame against the other to fit in the photo. He held the camera at an angle above their heads, their heads touching as they smiled to snap a photo. The photo came out of the device and both waited as the image formed on the glossy paper.

"You have very blue eyes." Dean commented as he stared at the photo. "I like them."

"Thank you, Dean." he smiled timidly. "Will I see you again tomorrow?"

"I don't know." he frowned slightly as he remembered he travelled too often to ever come back. "Perhaps."

"Do you promise?" he furrowed his brows with hope in his eyes; Dean felt his heart clench at the sight but he knew he couldn't promise something so impossible.

"One day, when we're older I'll come here and wait for you, okay? That's a promise."

"How long is that? And how will I know what day?" he looked at his feet with sadness.

"I don't know, maybe a few. On a day like this, like today." he glanced at the sea, then at Castiel. "Don't be sad, okay? I'll come back for you." Castiel smiled, burying his face in his hoodie.

"Okay." he spoke quietly, "I'll wait for you here."

"I have to go now." Dean stood up, Castiel followed and stared at Dean wanting to keep him with him, instead, he clenched his hands into fists and nodded.

"Goodbye, Dean." he smiled with effort.

"Don't say goodbye because I'm going to see you again." he shook his head, "Say," he seemed pensive for a while, "I'll see you soon." he stretched his hand towards him but Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean instead. He stood stiffly for a moment before he returned the embrace with a smile on his lips.

"My friend Anna says bye like this, only she kisses my cheek but I won't do that." he shook his head, Dean chuckled and turned his cheek.

"Go ahead if you want." he tapped his cheek with his finger, Castiel tried to hide the blush from his face as he stepped forward. He pressed his lips gently against Dean's cheek, and for once, there was no ache in his chest as he let someone walk away, no grief or pain on the day his family had left him alone in the world.

"Sir, it's time for your medicine." he opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep and his vision cleared. His bones ached and he detested the taste of the bitter pills in his mouth.

"Again? I thought I'd already taken those." he groaned as he sat up. "Guess when you're old like me, you start losing your memory." he shook his head.

"That's what the medicine is for." the young woman smiled as she gave him the medicine.

"It ain't helping much." he sighed. "What day is it?"

"It's Thursday, the seventeenth." she smiled. He remembered. In a long time, after all those years he remembered.

"Call Sam for me, please, tell him to come pick me up." he closed his eyes tightly with reminiscence.

"I wasn't born then, but my mother says every year on the same day he went to the same place by the beach." she sighed shaking her head, "No one knows why exactly, some think it was so he could see his family but, I don't know, he spent all day by the beach until dawn the next day." he could see the sadness and pity in her eyes as she narrated the story. "He's buried there, the mayor wouldn't allow it at first but the people in the town loved him, so the mayor gave in." he closed his eyes to stop a tear spilling from his eye; his chest hurt, it ached and he felt old.

"I'm here, like I promised you." he sat next to the cross buried in the sand, "I couldn't come earlier, I had- I had to do some things." he spoke quietly, "But I never once did forget you." he glanced at the name on the cross, "If I could reborn again, I'd like to meet you here like that one time but this time, I'd stay." he wiped the tear rolling down to his chin. "See you smile like that moment. I guess you captured our story in one second." he glanced at the photo in his hands. "I won't say goodbye this time either." he smiled as his bottom lip trembled, "I'll see you soon, Castiel."


	16. The Lips of an Angel

_**The Lips of an Angel **_

**WARNING: mentions of sexual and physical abuse, and suicidal thoughts. **

His heart pounded in his head as his toes curled, his back arched against the mattress and his fingers wrapped tightly pulling the sheets with all his strength. He parted his lips allowing a gasp to escape while a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead into his hair as he tried desperately to keep himself from hitting his head against the head board of the bed and praying it would be over soon. Just one more orgasm, just another John for the night. Just one more night. It was what he told himself every time as he found himself being abused, humiliated, beaten, broken; this was the last time it happened, only, it never was.

Every night of the week he walked a long distance to get to the bar where hundreds of strangers came in and left, he would display his body like entertainment for them, would stand every humiliation thrown his way just to have a bit of money for his next meal and a place to live. He would move his body along with the music, sliding his clothes down slightly, his eyes fierce and ready to hunt; he was beautiful, a beautiful creation being objectified, broken over and over just to convince him he was worth nothing, worth the money he received for the night. Jimmy was drowning, sinking deeper and deeper but he only hoped to run out of breath and let it be over.

"You come here every night, don't you?" he turned his head towards the corner of the alley where a woman stood around the other workers; she had a smile on her face that broke his heart for it was rare to see such a smile on these women or men.

"Not every night but whenever I can." he smiled as he handed roses to each one of them, placing a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads before he moved on.

"Dean, how-" Jasmine smiled swallowing the bitter bile rising to her throat. "You are like a guardian angel to all of us." she wiped the tear at the corner of her eye, "We can't thank you enough."

"Then don't." he smiled gently, "You don't need to thank me." he glanced at his feet, "Just don't give up, okay? One day, this life will be over and everything will get better." Jasmine wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, followed by each one of the women with a rose in their hands. "You stay safe, okay?" they nodded with a smile before he turned to leave.

He felt the pang in his chest, the pressure building inside and the bitterness in his mouth as he tried desperately to contain his tears from falling. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself hoping the shivering would stop but he knew it would not stop as long as the wind kept blowing.

"You must be freezing." Jimmy raised his head to find Dean standing before him.

"I'm- I'm fine." he smiled trying to hide the gloss from his eyes.

"Doesn't look like it to me." he raised his brows at the shivering man. "Here, this should help." he removed the brown leather jacket from his shoulders, proceeding to hold it out to Jimmy. "Go ahead."

"Thank you." he lowered his head hiding the smile from his face.

"Don't mention it." he glanced at his hands before giving the only rose left to Jimmy. "This one is for you." he held extended his arm towards the man, being careful to not seem threatening.

"You're giving me a rose?" he took his bottom lip between his teeth to stop it from trembling.

"You deserve one." he smiled; Jimmy kept silent as he stepped towards Dean, taking the rose in his hands.

"Thank you." he spoke quietly as a tear spilled from the corner of his eye. Dean stepped closer, carefully placing his lips on the broken man's forehead.

"Hey, you be safe, okay?" Jimmy nodded, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. He held the rose closer to his chest as he watched Dean disappear in the distance.

It may have been an obsession, or false hopes, perhaps a fantasy but he knew deep inside that his desires were impossible, and he found himself often leaning against the cold tiles as the water ran from his body down to the drain; his small frame trembled, struggling to keep himself standing while he attempted to wash away the sin, the touch of a stranger's hands, the blood and the tears from his eyes. How could he be saved? He wished for it to be over, but it seemed never ending and the only thought keeping him alive, the one reason he went to bed and woke up the next day was the rose he received every time and the kiss that was now placed on the side of his face.

"When exactly did you start- being involved in this life?" he wrapped his fingers around the cup of coffee, feeling the heat transfer to his skin. Jimmy could not find himself to look at Dean and stared at the flat surface of the table instead.

"When I was eighteen. As soon as I became old enough to get out of the orphanage." he pressed his lips into a thin line. "I became involved with the wrong kind of people, and it's difficult to get out of this- this life." Dean reached for the man's hand, careful to not make him flinch.

"Cas," he tilted his head attempting to get Jimmy to look at him. "Cas, look at me, please." he raised his head slowly as he looked at Dean trying to hide the shame, emptiness, the sin and the self hatred from his eyes. "Just say yes, and I can take you with me." he gave a gentle squeeze to his hand.

"Dean," he shook his head, "What will your family think of you for being with someone like me?"

"They will be happy, they would love to have you in their lives too, Cas. You are a wonderful person, even if you don't believe it." Jimmy stared at their hands intertwined before speaking.

"I don't deserve you." Dean's expression softened, feeling as his heart broke in his soul; what a shattered man, full of pain, loneliness, self hatred and worthlessness.

"That's not true." he shook his head, "Don't you say that, Cas, if it's someone who doesn't deserve a person like you, it's me." he furrowed his brows, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips. "Castiel James Novak, will you- will you be with me?"

They say happy endings are for fairy tales, that justice is only served to the righteous and destiny is chosen by higher powers. He finally understood as he lay on the hospital bed, that it had been there always but he kept running away, kept pushing it further and further yet it always followed him. He blinked twice, thrice to clear his vision and keeping himself awake as the voices started to fade.

"I do." he managed to speak as he began to lose consciousness.

No one ever told him that Heaven can be a beautiful place. Only after death could Jimmy smile without feeling the pain eat him away; no late nights displaying his body like an object for strangers, no unwanted hands abusing him, taking away the innocence, no more lonely nights crying himself to sleep as his body bruised or days spent thinking if it would be better to end it all himself. Looking back, it was worth dying for Dean. It was worth dying for the children he held in his arms, for Ben and Emma. Heaven was a beautiful place because Dean had created it for Castiel James Winchester.


	17. The Mirror

_**The Mirror **_

**WARNING: character death. **

He had lost his sanity somewhere along in time, perhaps when he lost his mother, perhaps when he lost himself. In truth, sanity was not essential to him, rather a disturbance between happiness and pain. Was a child of only twelve a very young age to worry the world for having imagination, or were they truly insane that could not see the things he did? "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?" he flickered his eyes open with expectancy, but once again finding himself disappointed.

"That's not going to work, Castiel. That only happens in fairy tales." Anna interrupted from across the room where she stood by the window glancing at the world outside from time to time. Castiel stood before the six feet-long mirror hidden in the attic staring at his own reflection.

"But I told you it works! It was talking to me last time!" he stomped his foot on the wooden floor. Anna turned to look at him with pity, and sighed.

"Castiel, I know you are lonely but I don't think it's healthy for you to stay in the attic all day long. Why don't you go play with your neighbour Garth?" she shook her head, starting to walk towards the exit.

"No. He doesn't really like anything I like, so what's the point?" he shook his head. Anna sighed with a nod before turning to leave.

"Stupid adults and their lack of faith!" he folded his arms across his chest furiously as he pouted. "Dean! Talk to meeee! I know you're there!" he placed his palms on the cold surface. The adorned golden edges of the mirror commenced to glow, filling the room with a bright light that blinded Castiel for a moment. Slowly and painfully the image inside the mirror formed; the sad eyes of a young boy staring back at Castiel, the same height, the same clothes, the same position, the same expression. He smiled when Castiel smiled, laughed when Castiel laughed, moved when Castiel moved, and disappeared when Castiel left the room.

"I told you not to tell anyone about me!" both boys stomped their left foot.

"But Anna wouldn't leave me alone, she thinks I'm weird and have no friends." they folded their arms across their chest.

"That's not true though. Who cares what Anna says? After all, you know the truth." a twisted smirk formed on their lips, their eyes fiercely piercing through the glass. A wicked laughter escaped from their lips before their hands met upon the flat surface.

"Don't worry, Dean, I'll always be here with you." they smiled gently. "You love me, right? And love will keep us together forever." their foreheads met; Castiel could feel the coldness of the surface on his skin but, he knew on the other side of the mirror that Dean's skin was just as warm as his.

"Forever, Cas." they whispered.

The soft melody travelled through the air reaching his ears, his body shivered from the cold as he sat quietly in his chair with a book in his hands. He was accustomed to Dean playing Hey Jude as a lullaby every afternoon from the other side of the mirror. He smiled as he glanced at the mirror on the wall in the study room in his apartment.

"We're really wearing that ugly sweater?" they scrunched their noses, glancing at the black and white striped jumper.

"Hey, I like it." they shrugged. "Besides, I have a class tonight and it will be cold."

"Did you really have to sign up for night classes, Cas?" they rolled their eyes.

"Yes, so I could work during the day. " their arms folded across their chest, a small frown formed on their faces with apparent hurt.

"I barely see you anymore." they whispered. "I miss you, Cas."

"Dean, I love you but understand that I need the money for college and the rent." their arms dropped to their sides.

"I know." they sighed. "Just be safe, okay? Don't overwork yourself. I want you to be healthy and alive or we both disappear." they nodded.

"I won't, don't worry. I'm healthy, see?" they spun around three hundred and sixty degrees.

"Good." they smiled as their hands met on the surface of the mirror. "I love you."

"I love you too." a gentle smile formed on their lips. "I'll be safe for you."

_"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?" _

It was painful, and sad, but mostly painful. He screamed in agony hoping the pain would disappear, and it did. He lay on the ground with a hand resting upon his stomach, and as soon as he composed himself he stood up. The crowd of people around him whispered but he could not hear them, nor did he care. A man knelt at his side with horror in his eyes, Castiel glanced around trying to comprehend why they had their eyes fixed on the pavement. Not five minutes passed when he heard the sirens in the distance, the murmurs and cries; he stared in horror at the body laying on the ground, and he stepped away as fast as he could to allow others to help.

"You son of a bitch, I told you to be careful." Castiel turned around to find the source of the familiar voice.

"Dean." Castiel whispered, noticing the man did not mimic his movements, nor was he trapped inside the mirror.

"It's time to go home, Cas." he smiled gently, with wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Home? But I need to get to class! I'll be late." Dean shook his head with a sad smile.

"You don't need to anymore." he extended his hand towards Castiel. "Come, I'll take you home with me. To my home." Castiel was cold, colder than ever before yet his body did not shiver. "Do you trust me?" he furrowed his brows, still holding his hand out for Castiel to take.

"Yes." he stepped forward, and for the first time he could intertwine his fingers with Dean's, and though he could not feel his heart beating inside his chest, it didn't matter; to be with the man he loved was better than life.


	18. The Little Mermaid is Just A Tale

_**The Little Mermaid is Just a Tale**_

**_WARNING: character death, suicide.  
_**

**UPDATE: I fixed some errors on this ficlet, I am currently in the process of writing a Fledgling!Samandriel ficlet. I apologise I have not updated WJMHS or Stranger Than You Dream It, I will do that as soon as I can. Thank you for your patience!**

It was on days like these that he enjoyed standing at the edge of the cliff, feeling as the breeze caressed his face, blowing the hairs on his head in every direction. The salty scent of the sea reaching his nostrils penetrated his clothes and stuck to his skin. He wondered how the heroes from the stories he had been told had come to be. Had they all been fabricated, or had one been more than a simple character born from another mind somewhere in time? What if he could make history and be remembered for something he believed in until his last breath like one of them? Would he be important after death or would he be erased and forgotten?

He stepped closer to the edge watching the waves hit the rocks furiously, the sea crashing, waiting for what fell from above to devour it. It thrilled him with excitement and terror at the image forming in his mind seeing the white foam tainted with red, the blue waters swallowing hungrily each drop of life left in him. He dreamt of being one of the creatures below the water, to belong somewhere among them, perhaps, just maybe this could be it. He brought his hand to the left side of his chest for a brief moment, hoping the ache would disappear; he spread his arms once again, his feet stepping closer and closer to the edge, he allowed his body fall into the emptiness without regrets; his sins had been confessed to the one who could not accept them. It was over.

It was beautiful, graceful and painful the way in which the air swallowed him, filling him with numbness he'd ever desired; he was free, and a smile formed on his lips, one last smile to have. He felt the strong arms pulling him closer to the other body, the strong arms holding him one last time, and a whisper that made his heart ache as he recognised the voice. "I won't let you die alone, Gabriel." though he could not see the face of the man, he knew then that everything was going to be alright, everything was okay because for once he wasn't alone. "I'm sorry." were the last words whispered before their last breath.

"Look at you, little Sammy all grown up!" Dean chuckled as he fixed the bow-tie around his brother's neck. Sam glanced at his shoes with a smile as he attempted to calm the flutter in his stomach. "I'm proud of you, Sam."

"Thanks, Dean. It means a lot to me hearing, that from you." He nodded slowly. "I think- mum and dad would have been proud of you, it's because of you that I'm here now, that all this is possible." He pressed his lips into a thin line briefly as he cleared his throat, "So thank you."

"Hey, I'm the big brother and I have to, okay?" He chuckled. "Enough of the heart to heart thing, you're gonna be late. Don't wanna leave the bride waiting, do you?" He pat Sam on the shoulder one last time before leaving.

Sam was left standing by the window alone; his hands trembled at his sides and he took a deep breath hoping his heart rate would slow down since it hadn't from the moment he had woken up that day. He brought his hand to the left side of his tuxedo jacket in search for a folded piece of paper he swore would burn later, but he lied to himself.

_"I languish for you as for a pretty Calabrian wench... my sentiments for you are those of a woman. The femininity of my nature and our friendship must remain a mystery."_

He sighed feeling the ache in his chest manifest once again; Sam was guilty, and he condemned himself for holding the pride in his hands as if it were a precious thing, so rare it might break, in the process, he broke an already wounded soul. The memories that drifted through his mind of two children running through the fields on warm summer afternoons, smiling with innocence and purity as the wind blew away the salty droplets from their foreheads and their feet carried them far, far away from the small village until they reached the cliff they had always been warned about. Gabriel would sit next to Sam, listening to the waves crash as if wishing to reach the top of the cliff, staring at the line where the ocean met the skies, gazing up the clouds covering the sun and counting the seagulls flying by. These were days of innocence.

Men should not love men, men should love women because society commanded it. He should love Amelia and be happy.

"Sam?" He blinked twice as he broke away from the trance, only to find her by the door.

"Amelia, what are you doing here?" He glanced at her from head to toe, the ends of her dress were stained with mud and her hair was disheveled from running .

"I needed to talk to you." Her chest heaved up and down, her hands tightened on the sides of the dress's skirt. "I can't do this." She spoke again before Sam could. Amelia glanced at her dress, then at Sam with an apologetic expression. "I need you to know something." She urged her feet to move towards Sam slowly. "I know." Sam knit his brows staring at her, unable to comprehend her words.

"You know?" A small smile formed on her face, her hand reached to cup the side of Sam's face before she spoke again.

"I know what it feels to comply marrying someone who your heart does not belong to. And I know we could not be happy, for a while perhaps, but not forever." Her hand dropped at her side as she took a step back. "No one can tell you who you can and can not love. It is your heart and you happiness. Mine is with someone else, not with you." She slid off the ring from her finger, proceeding to place it in the palm of Sam's hand before she left without looking back.

Sam glanced at the ring in his hand, then at the letter, and back at the ring. A chuckle escaped from his lips, feeling his soul tear apart. What is life, having had it all and had nothing at all? He ran a hand through his hair before deciding it was fate that had long ago marked him for another, and he ran out of the room in search for Gabriel. He found him; standing at the edge of the cliff where they had stood as kids listening to nature's music being peace to their souls. The fear filled the corners of his eyes with tears knowing this was the end of an untold story, his soul quivered with terror, guilt and pain.

They say the little mermaid lost everything to follow her heart, in return she gained the love of a prince. Only sometimes, the story is altered; no one dares to tell of the lovers who loved one another despite the world around them prohibiting it. They were and always be another untold tale.

_ -Dean Winchester, 1837_


	19. Wild Child

_**Wild Child**_

**WARNING: besides the fact that this is blasphemous on so many levels (LOL) there is nothing really. Fluff? Not really angelcest, more like brotherly bonding!**

**A/N: remember that this is Heaven, where everything is supposed to be peaceful, therefore, I assume Betta get along :') I hope I'm not wrong. Also, this is from Lucifer's point of view, then shifts to someone else's point of view and it keeps shifting. I hope it's not too confusing.**

Lucifer smirked with mischief in his eyes as he rested on the green grass; his arms folded beneath his head while he gazed at the skies above him, watching the birds or other angels that passed flying by. He pondered silently in his head, assuring no other Angel could hear his thoughts, that heaven was not as merry as it had been since humans had been born. Michael had been left in charge of training all the Garrisons, assigning the superiors and supervising Heaven's order with the assistance of Raphael. Gabriel often travelled from Heaven to Earth delivering messages, or signing treaties with other realms' kings or queens. Lucifer was left in Heaven to assist his father, though completed his missions early which left more time for himself.

He sighed as he stood up extending his wings ready to fly; the room was silent and warm, the light that radiated from the man sitting behind the desk illuminated every single inch of the immense room. He folded his wings and his arms being his back while he approached his father sitting behind the desk with books displayed before him.

"So, are you having a good day, dad?" Lucifer rocked back and forth on his heels; Chuck turned to look at him with knowledge of his son's intents.

"What are you going to ask for this time? And no, you can not have Michael's heaven, he's older." he rolled his eyes, "So, what is it? Another meteor shower? Another Holy hound? I hope you haven't forgotten to feed him." He pointed at Lucifer with a warning look, the archangel cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his head.

"No, no. Never." He shook his head closing his eyes briefly, "I wanted to ask if I could borrow one of my siblings for today?" He planted a grin on his face as he continued to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet; Chuck sighed, letting his arms drop at his sides.

"You know you're brothers and sisters are busy, they have lots of things to do-"

"I know," he interrupted, "I meant, one of the fledgling. I'll take good care of them, I promise." He lifted his right hand with his palm extended. "I won't even leave Heaven, I'll just spend the day around here, please?" He knit his eye brows waiting for his father's response.

"You know the fledgling can not leave the nursery, it is dangerous." He folded his arms across his chest. "Why don't you go see if Michael or Raphael need help? Or Zachariah?" Lucifer rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"I'm sure they don't need me, every time I go visit them they tell me to go somewhere else." His wings sagged on the floor, the edges of the feathers changed colour from light blue and silver to dark violet fading to black. Chuck nodded, sensing the loneliness and pain Lucifer felt.

"Listen," he took a step forward as he placed his hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "I understand you are all by yourself but I don't think it is a good idea to take the fledgling out of the nursery, but if you would like you can help look after them." Lucifer's wings did not change colour yet he smiled at his father before disappearing without any further words.

The dimmed light coming from one direction of the room illuminated each cradle made of ivory and precious stones; it highlighted the small wings on the fledgling who slept silently. The temperature was warm in order to aid the growth of their wings; the soft sound of a harp travelled throughout the room, Lucifer remembered his father had composed it for his children, and a small, reminiscent smile formed on his lips. He was distracted glancing around the room at his siblings sleeping that he did not see Hester standing at a corner of the room with a fledgling in her arms. She quietly walked towards him to place her hand upon his shoulder, Lucifer then sensed her face among the ones of the babies; he turned towards her with an apologetic expression for disrupting their sleep time.

"I'll come back when they're awake." He whispered with a small nod, Hester smiled.

"I will call you when they are." Lucifer extended his wings to fly as quiet as he could, Hester walked towards the empty cradle to place the fledgling in it. Suddenly there was a soft thud along the sound of Lucifer's wings, she turned to find its source but everything was still and dark.

His memories drifted back to the very beginning of his kind's existence, the times when it was only the elder angels, he and Michael, two of the very first beings to be created; Heaven was quiet, empty and lonely, yet he was happy. Their father had taught them to fly, to love the things He created, but more importantly to love and respect each other; there was no greater, and there was no lesser. He would follow Michael where the other went, Raphael and Gabriel would follow him. Their favourite place to spend most of their time was among the clouds, as soon as their wings had reached their full growth and they had mastered the art of flying they lost themselves among the thickest clouds, only to have one of them try to find the others; Gabriel always won. Lucifer was proud of him.

He furrowed his brows feeling a gentle tug at the feathers of his right wing and he could sense the familiar grace of another Angel present yet he could not see who it was. He constructed a replica of himself and both glanced around the garden to search for the Angel behind the bushes, in the tree tops, under the bench seats, inside the fountains and behind every pillar but he found no one. Lucifer sighed exasperated, clenching his fists at his sides and anger began to build inside his grace.

"Alright, will you at least tell me who you are?" He raised his brows as his replica faded away. He received no response, yet he could sense the Angel behind him. "You're good." He smirked, "But you need to practice on making your grace less known." He turned around to find no one and he rolled his eyes feeling foolish. There was another gentle tug on the feathers of his wings, Lucifer was fast to grab the Angel with his hands and was surprised to find the being much smaller than him.

"How did you get here?" He smiled holding the fledgling above his head. "You should be in the nursery. Dad is not going to be happy." He pouted, the fledgling smiled as it attempted to pull the golden hairs standing on Lucifer's head. "You want to stay with your big brother instead? I can be fun." He grinned. "What is your name?" He glanced at the golden name tag hanging around the fledgling's neck, and smiled for he knew the meaning behind his name. "Well aren't you an important little guy?" He bounced the baby in his arms, making him chortle with a high pitched sound.

"Tell me, Samandriel, how did you follow me here? You are going to be in trouble, little buddy, but don't worry, I'll take the blame for you." Lucifer unfolded a set of wings from his back to wrap them around Samandriel and himself. He could feel his grace connect with the fledgling, who lay still in Lucifer's arms sensing his warm grace cool slightly, and he stared at the older Angel in confusion and wonder. They say on the bench in silence as the time set in Heaven passed; Lucifer quietly hummed a melody he had composed and Samandriel began to close his eyes. There was a sound of thunder throughout the skies that perhaps was heard in every heaven, Samandriel jolted awake with a loud cry, feeling his grace shake Lucifer held him closer to his chest whispering soothingly that it was nothing.

"Shh, it's okay. Let's get you back to the nursery, I think dad noticed you are missing." he whispered. There was another sound of thunder, Lucifer unfolded all the wings from his back to envelop the fledgling protectively; the skies in his heaven darkened and a furious voice appeared behind him.

"Did I not tell you not to take the fledgling out of the nursery?" he turned around to find his father radiating with fury, the light around him illuminating intensely.

"I can explain." he lowered his head not daring to look into his father's eyes.

"Why do you disobey me, Lucifer? Is it for attention?" he knit his brows shaking his head. Lucifer remained silent, he could feel his father's eyes on him; the grace inside him flickered, the colour of his wings faded back to violet and black. Samandriel writhed in his arms clinging onto the garments he wore. "Everything's okay." he whispered through a prayer to the fledgling. Chuck sighed exhaustedly.

"Alright, give him here." he extended his arms towards Lucifer, who in turn unwrapped the wings around him, proceeding to hide them behind his back. He was careful as he placed Samandriel in his father's arms, yet the baby held on tighter to Lucifer's garments. "I feel offended." Chuck placed his hands at his sides with amusement in his eyes.

"Sorry." Lucifer shrugged with a smirk. "May I please hold him for a little longer? I will keep my grace linked to his so I know when he tries to escape." he looked at his father pleadingly, Chuck rolled his eyes letting his arms drop at his sides.

"Alright, but take him back to the nursery when Hester calls you." he warned pointing with his finger; Lucifer nodded with a smile on his face.

"I will, I will." Chuck nodded before disappearing, the skies clearing along. Samandriel rested his chin on Lucifer's shoulder as he pulled the Angel's hair and laughed. "Oh, so that's how it's going to be, huh?" he chuckled. "Want to go see the rabbits? Then we can go see the Betta or the birds."

He allowed Samandriel to sit on the grass as they watched the rabbits hop around the bushes, some of them followed by bunnies coming in and out of the rabbit hole, some of the curious and brave approached the babe lying on its tummy, and examined him. Samandriel stared with curiosity at the white moving cloud-like things that reminded him of the _things_ behind the other fledgling's backs that tempted him to tug at them often. He let a loud screech as a bunny touched the tip of his nose with his; it was soft, warm and it tickled. Lucifer smiled widely sensing the fledgling's grace warm. There was a rabbit slowly approaching Lucifer, it stopped before his face to examine the Angel before hopping on top of his head, making Samandriel laugh.

"Hey!" Lucifer laughed as the rabbit accommodated itself on the Angel's back.

There were hundreds of Betta inside the fountain, each one of different colour and uniquely formed. Water lilies rested upon the surface of the crystal waters, crickets or other insects were found resting inside the flowers; Samandriel was fascinated by all the things around him, it was the first time since he had been born that he experienced the world outside the nursery, and he engraved in his memories each detail of every creature, every moving and non-moving object around him, the textures, the temperatures and colours. Water was cold to the touch and left an uncomfortable feeling on his skin and garments yet it was amusing to put his hands so the fish could touch the tip of his fingers. He wondered what the small things resembling leaves of different colours were as Lucifer poured them over the water, the fish swam to catch the leaf-like things and devoured them.

"They like this." Lucifer smiled as he poured some of the contents upon Samandriel's small palm. "Throw it in the water." he pointed at the group of fish waiting. "Like this." he motioned with his hands, Samandriel imitated his movements and smiled once he achieved them. "Good." he smiled.

The silence in his head was interrupted by a prayer calling to him, Lucifer recognised the voice and sighed with disappointment. Samandriel yawned whilst arranging himself in Lucifer's arms; he enjoyed the different scent of the Angel than that of the nursery, the air around him was different and everything was much clearer or vivid. A smile crept upon his lips as he buried his nose on the crook of his brother's neck, feeling sleep overtake him. There was a white cloud-like moving thing, a red 'fish', a blue 'fish', a thing with wings Lucifer called a 'grasshopper', there was water, grass, there were 'flowers' and there were 'fruit', there was a 'sky', there were small leaf-like things, but most importantly, there was his big brother who held him protectively in his arms, and he very much enjoyed his sleep time for once.


	20. Little House on the Prairie

_**The Little House on the Prairie **_

**WARNING: mentions of child corporal punishment. **

**A/N: I will not be able to update Welcome to James Monroe High School or Stranger Than You Dream It anytime soon, I have no internet, except in my phone and it is difficult to write four thousand words in this small device and revise them. I can only write up to a thousand words but I apologise if it has mistakes, I did not revise this before posting. Thank you for all of you who take the time to read this and review (:**

The sun rose from the skirts of the mountains illuminating the green pastures adorned with droplets of dew; the mist still travelling through the clean air carried the scent of wild flora, wet soil, burning wood from the small cabins' chimneys and the excrement of the horses, sheep and cows.

The school was located at the centre of the village, just bellow the mountains, which was a thirty minute walk if one was lucky enough to live closest. Children from every age raced to the small cabin made into the local school taught by Michael and Mrs. Mills; there were pupils of different ages, different grade levels and different social classes all in one room.

Dean raced along with Sam, his younger brother, Adam, his youngest brother, Jo, his best friend, Gabriel and Garth, his other two friends, every morning and they ran without stopping through the tall grass that reached their knees, through the bridge that creaked from being too old, and down the rocky hills that scraped their knees if they fell. Adam once slipped on the mud, making him land on his hands and knees, a sharp edge of a stone tore his flesh and the boy being only five years old began to cry without getting up. Sam stopped his feet once he heard the cries of his younger brother and helped him to his feet to clean the wound with the handkerchief he carried in his pocket. Dean noticed both of his brothers absence, with a sigh he returned until he found them on their way.

"What happened now?" he let his arms drop at his sides with annoyance.

"He fell and his knee was bleeding." Sam responded as he helped Adam walk.

"You have mud all over your knees and shoes!" Dean pointed out. Adam glanced at his feet and his bottom lip trembled as tears began to form in his eyes. "Don't cry. It's not that bad." he gave him a small smile, "Want me to carry you on my back?" Adam nodded wiping the tears from his face.

Sam carried Dean and Adam's lunch boxes as they descended the hill, and though they had lost the race their class mates had waited for them outside the cabin until the bell announced the time to be seated at their desks. Sam instructed Adam the rules written on the board that Michael and Mrs. Mills had set the day before; every student is to leave their coats by the door and be seated at their assigned desk before the teacher comes into the room.

"But I like my coat." Adam complained with a small pout as he handed the navy blue coat to Sam.

"I know but if you don't obey the teachers will give you a spank with the ruler. You don't want that, do you?" Adam shook his head with fear at the thought of getting punished. "Good, now go sit down and be good."

"Okay." he took the lunch box from Sam's hands, proceeding to sit at the first desk by the window.

Dean sat at the corner of the room next to Jo, in front of Gabriel and behind Lucian, Garth sat next to Jo, who sat behind Sam. The room was cold and quiet with whispers of some students, laughter and tapping of pencils on the desks. The bell finally announced for everyone to be seated quietly; Michael walked into the room with a ruler in his hands, followed by Mrs. Mills. They glanced at the students around the room, then at the coats hanging by the door; a small frown formed on Michael's face as his eyes landed on a young boy sitting at the very back with arms wrapped around himself and focused solely on the flat surface of his desk.

"Castiel Novak!" he called in his authoritative tone, making the boy flinch at the sound of his name being called.

"Yes, Mr. Shurley?" he looked up with fear.

"Why is your coat not hanging by the door? Did you not hear the rules yesterday?" he slapped the palm of his hand with the end of the ruler, the sound made Castiel shiver and a flutter of anxiety formed in the pit of his stomach.

"I-I apologise sir, I was absent yesterday." he tightened his arms around himself. He fixed his eyes on his desk once again, feeling the anxiety creep into him as all eyes stared at him.

"The rules are still on the board. Now take it off and place it by the door, please." he pointed with the ruler at the direction of the door. Castiel knit his brows tightening his arms around himself to stop the trembling of his body.

"Please sir, don't make me take it off." he spoke quietly but audible enough for him to hear.

"These are the rules, Castiel, or I will have to spank you with the ruler." he approached the boy slowly, only to slam the wooden stick on the table. "Do as instructed or you will be punished." Castiel nodded as his small body trembled, a tear spilled from the corner of his eye and he attempted to keep them away. He slid of the sleeves of the coat away and he shivered at the loss of heat; Michael stood there with an ache through his chest condemning himself. Castiel found himself unable to meet anyone's eyes, his back slouched and his arms covering his naked torso as he trembled from the cold. The bones from his ribs were noticeable as the rest of each bone standing out on his thin and malnourished body.

"May I please keep it on?" he whispered; Michael nodded with a sigh.

"I am sorry, Castiel, but I must go by the rules. You may keep it on but I still have to punish you." he swallowed the bitter bile rising to his throat. "Please go stand at the front of the room." the young boy wrapped the coat around him tighter as he walked towards the front of the room refusing to meet anyone's eyes. He supported his weight on his hands against the podium, waiting for the first strike to mark his flesh; he felt nauseous, frightening and his body did not cease to tremble as the anxiety increased.

Michael tightened his grip on the wooden ruler as he whispered a small prayer in his head wishing the situation were different. He lifted his arm for the first blow, Castiel closed his eyes as tight as he could and his muscles tensed.

"Wait, Mr. Shurley!" a voice from a boy in the room stopped Michael before hitting Castiel. Everyone turned to look at the boy, including Castiel. "How many times are you going to hit him?" he ran to the front of the room as fast as he could.

"Three." the man furrowed his brows as the boy slid the shirt from his body.

"Then hit me six times." he placed his hands next to the boy who shivered supporting his weight on the podium, protecting Castiel's body with his own. Michael tilted his head slightly with brows furrowed, a small smile formed on his lips and he pressed them into a thin line to stop the bottom one from trembling. Mrs. Mills sat behind her desk wiping the tears from her eyes; Sam straightening his back with pride as he admired his older brother's courage.

"Are you sure, Mr. Winchester?"

"Yes, sir." Michael nodded comprehending; he lifted his arm once again as he held the wooden ruler tightly. Dean smiled slightly at the soft gasp that escaped from the other boy's lips, he smiled with each strike because it was worth it, and he smiled as he whispered, 'it's okay.' as Castiel wept feeling the light in his life glow for the first time since his mother's death.

He was the boy from the little house on the prairie who isolated himself from the world around him, the boy with the torn shoes who sat quietly behind the school as others played with their friends, the boy no one remembered existed; only he was wrong, because he mattered to one person, and that was enough to give him hope to live. He was the boy Dean Winchester called friend.


	21. Marionette

_**Marionette **_

**WARNING: mentions of anxiety, paranoia, and character death.**

The house stands on the extensive flat land, by the dusty old road disappearing into the horizon where the hard blue skies with the cleanest air of Kansas meet the earth. The land is dry, cracked and dead, the view is formidably vast; horses resting inside the fence hide from the heat of summer under the shadow of the stables, herds of cattle graze on the lands of dry grass left from spring dispersed far from the main house but not far enough to get lost. Lawrence is known by travellers passing through Kansas to reach their destination only, they are left in awe at the remaining western buildings not seen in large cities.

There is a dog barking at nothing, standing on the old wooden boards of the porch of the main house, he stands still for a moment before disappearing into the stable to meet its master, a hirsute young boy of age twelve; he carries book in his hands that his grandmother gifted him, and a pair of high-heeled boots with pointed toes on his feet. The dog waits patiently for the boy to notice him, but he is solely focused on the stories feeding his imagination, so the dog barks twice and only then does the boy see the animal expecting his attention.

"Sorry, Harley, didn't see you there." The boy kneels to pet him, holding the book under his arm. "Are you hungry yet? I think you deserve a snack. Come on, let's go inside the house." Harley follows the boy into the house, where the aroma of cinnamon and apples fills the room.

Another boy of age sixteen sits by the unlit chimney contemplating the world around him, he holds a marionette in his hands idly pulling at the cuffs of the blouse it wears. He knows the story, knows the object is foreign and cursed but the curiosity attracts him. Castiel, or 'Cas', as the boy calls it, is an old marionette carved from Tilia, and varnished with a honey colour that gives it a fine glow, it wears a small hat on its head to cover the dark hair said to be from human scalp, a sailor-boy blouse, blue pants that match the colour of its eyes, and shoes; it fascinates at first sight until the story of its source is told. It came to be a myth, a bedtime story for those who had been around during the years of pain, desperation, starvation and loss of hope; The Great Depression.

~_1930s_~

The Novak family is composed of seven members; Amelia, the mother, James, the father, Michael, the oldest son, Lucian, the second oldest son, Anna, the only daughter, Gabriel and Castiel, the twins. These are the days of dying, the days one wishes to have never been born than have born and lived for nothing; thousands die only to be replaced by others and the problem only increases. The lands are dry, life is dead, mothers pray to have a bite of bread to give their children, and Amelia is no exception; everything in the house is gone, the cattle have starved and died or have been eaten by wild animals hunting at night, the chickens are all gone, the apple trees have ceased to give its fruit, the land refuses to grow wheat, or barley, or corn, or legumes, or any other thing. Daytime is harsh, and Gabriel is ill, the dust has collected in his lungs for far more than it should have; he lies in bed waiting for his day to come, and the stubborn boy Castiel refuses to leave his side. It is only a matter of time before one or the other joins him; they pray in silence to a divine Being for a little mercy, except Lucian. He says, 'if life is worth keeping why does God not help the damned on earth?' He would undoubtedly replace his sibling if it allowed the other to live, but what is a wish.

He used to imagine life was a pleasant ride on a train going to the big cities; one is amazed by the sights along the way, the things not seen in small places like the one he'd always known, they are incredible wonders men created with a divine guidance. But that was before he lost faith, the train wrecked somewhere in the desert, and the passengers have all died. He imagined his mother sitting across from him with her books, his father conversing with other gentlemen, Lucian and Michael quarrelling as they always did, Anna isolating herself from the family lost in her own fantasies, and Gabriel pulling his hair, stealing his diary or drinking his tea - it was a journey for only them. To experience the innocence of life. Castiel could almost taste death on the tip of his tongue; after Gabriel had abandoned him he asked Anna to place him by his brother's side and leave their beloved golden box of adventures between them to share. The flame weakens as darkness thickens, the intensity of the pain increases with each second, stronger, stronger, stronger, then ceases. All is gone, all is lost, all is faded and their lives' the cost.

The mental balance of Amelia decreases after the death of her sons; there is a small cross buried on the ground next to a smaller one carved from an old tree branch fallen from the apple trees on the fields. James witnesses in silence as she treasures the hairs of Castiel in a wooden box, and locks herself in the boys' room. The ramshackle barn far from the house has been abandoned for months now, the roof is perforated by branches that fell upon it, the doors creak loudly, the dust enters from every fissure of the wooden boards, the heat is unbearable and it becomes her preferred place to be apart from the rest of the world. She carves slowly each limb, each finger, each inch of the body until her hands bleed, and even then she does not stop until it has been done. The clothes it wears belong to an infant Gabriel, the hair of Castiel and his shoes.

~_1993_~

"Dean, throw it away, it's creepy!" Sam stands by the door watching as his brother searches through a dusty and forgotten chest in the attic. The Campbells had purchased the land years after the Novak's misfortune; the house was falling apart and Samuel Campbell rebuilt it with his own hands. No one ever searched in the attic, never truly cared for what hidden objects remained in that obscure place, nor did they believe the haunting was real.

"No, I like it." he examines the marionette from every angle, noticing the perfection of its condition. A locket is hidden behind the collar of the sailor boy blouse, an oval locket with two ancient photographs of two strangers; he is fascinated by the mystery.

"What is that?" the younger boy narrows his eyes at the object in the other's hands.

"I don't know, it says, 'Castiel'." He frowns. "I think that's his name." he holds the marionette closer to him. Sam still stands by the door in silence noticing the smile formed on his brother's lips, a smile rarely seen on that worn out face.

The ground swallows the sun like a glutton, leaving nothing but darkness; the child sleeps for the first time in months after countless restless nights of horrid dreams invading his mind. Paranoia envelops him, distracts him, makes him suffer; anxiety He holds Castiel against his chest; some dreams are of him staring out the window at the sceneries, the locomotive travels at a great speed for long distances, it never stops, it never rests, it never slows down. Sam sits next to him with a book in his hands, sometimes it is the same book, sometimes it isn't familiar. He never enjoyed the taste of tea, but in his dreams it pleases his palate, the feeling of the warm liquid travelling down his throat only to warm his body from head to toe. It is a beautiful thing to be so alive.

~_1995_~

_Sleep silently, sweet child, sleep serene for dreams become soon only a memory of false reality. Who is the child by your side calling your name? Sleep, dear, you have been watched from afar and it guides you. The day you stood so high, you were falling, you were falling and he saved you. Sleep, child, sleep. Dream your dreams you can not hide from me. Dream! Dream! Dream!_

"Dean!" He gasps for air feeling his lungs compress, his body trembles, the speed of his heart beat quickens, and sleep has escaped him again. Sam stands by his side resting his hand on the other boy's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm- I'm fine." he shakes his head as his vision clears; the accelerated thump does not stop, he feels the perturbation increases, he looks to the right, looks to the left, under the covers, under the pillow and under his bed but nothing. "Where's Cas? What did you do to Cas?" he grips Sam's collar pulling him to his level.

"Calm down! I don't have him." he struggles to release himself from his brother's grip yet the other is far too strong.

"Give him to me!" the veins on his hands are visible from the force he uses against Sam.

"Dean, that's not healthy! It's a creepy doll and you're too old for it."

"It's a marionette and that's none of your business!"

"You're socially anxious and have not friends, it's not normal!" his chest heaves furiously as Dean stares at him with anger; Sam regrets his words.

"I don't need friends, I don't care to be normal, I just want Cas." he releases the collar from his brother's shirt and stares at his hands now resting on his legs. "Please give him back."

"I can't." his brows furrow, "I can't give him back, Dean." he gives a step back clenching his fists at his sides.

"Can't or won't?" he dangles his feet off the bed.

"Can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Dean, I threw Cas in the fireplace." Dean hears the sound of his heart beat in his chest loud then louder as it breaks.

The voice of Castiel is gone, the last remains of him are ashes on ashes; Dean's only friend has died after his death. Though he remembers the day he first dreamt of a stranger calling his name, a familiar apparition that seemed distant- far from a touch, far from reality yet so real. He had eased the pain from the boy, had fixed his nightmares, had made a friend of him- he realised, it wasn't the marionette, it wasn't the piece of wood he held tightly in his arms for so long; it was a spirit that followed him, the spirit of a child who was just as lost as Dean Winchester. And for the second time, Castiel had lost his only family.


	22. Pray For Us, Mary

_**Pray for us, Mary**_

**WARNING: mentions of PSTD, gore, death. **

It was the sun hiding behind the green mountains during a summer evening all wrapped in a circle around her pupils; her skin like ivory and soft as velvet, the rose tint spread upon her cheeks giving her a fantastic glow, as well as the golden locks falling gracefully down her face to her breasts; she was indeed a goddess of beauty. The corners of her lips curled into a tender smile as her fingers trailed down John's face; his head rested on her lap with eyes closed, listening to the record player in the background softly play its tunes.

"You will be a great father, John." she spoke quietly, a wide smile spread over his lips, and his eyes fluttered open to stare into hers.

"I hope so, Mary. I want to give you and our kids the best. I want us to be happy." he took her soft hands between his giving them a gentle squeeze before placing his lips tenderly upon them.

"No matter what happens, we'll find happiness together." her hands cupped his face, and their lips met for a brief moment.

"Together." he muttered against her lips.

He could see the world in her eyes, the beauty of life and worth so vivid, so tender and loving; it calmed him and soothed the pain when Mary held him tightly the nights he awoke from a nightmare whispering 'it's okay, I'm here. You're home.'. John ran as fast as he could carrying the wounded soldier in his arms, his own body bleeding fast and it made him dizzy. The sound of thunder echoed throughout the skies, the bombs near and far, the sound of machineguns, bullets landing by his feet, passing so close, and by some miracle he avoided them; not all. The smell of death, fire, and chemicals intoxicated him, the blood gathered on the trenches like a stream along with limbs, heads, arms, and bodies; its internal organs spilling on the blood stained mud. His body had been worked beyond exhaustion to continue and he lay on the ground waiting for the enemy to find him, to end the pain with a bullet through his head yet, when he closed his eyes he could hear her voice and see her face smiling at him. 'I'll wait for you to come home to me again.' and it was enough to keep him alive for one more day and force his body to move.

His eyes scanned around the smoky field, there was not much to see beyond three yards but dead bodies, agonising men holding their insides in their hands, others choking on their own blood, others screaming from the pain and others waiting silently for death to claim them. There was a young man, younger than John, perhaps only eighteen, he lay on the grass with various bullets through his chest, his arm and one on his leg; the blood stained the earth, running like water out of him. John could hear him cry, calling for his mother, "Mamma… I'm coming home, mamma." he muttered reaching with his hand to the air, he was silent for a moment before reaching for his gun and with the last bullet he took his own life. John held on for Mary.

"You will be a great father, John." she spoke quietly, a wide smile spread over his lips, and his eyes fluttered open to stare into hers, she burst into flames

He sat up abruptly as his chest heaved and ached, his body trembled as cold sweat rolled down his face. His eyes scanned the room with fear in search for his sons; Sam slept silently in his bed but Dean was missing. Through the panic and horror he managed to compose himself enough to find the gun he kept under a cushion of the sofa where he slept.

"Dean?" he muttered spying a small shape a few feet ahead of him, the boy stepped forward in silence before placing his small hand on his father's shoulder.

"It's okay dad. I'm here. You're home." he whispered.

…~)*(~…

"Dad made some mistakes, but he always did the best he could." he focused his eyes on the road listening to the sound of the engine and the tires against the pavement, Sam kept quiet for a moment fighting the tears from spilling out of his eyes.

"I know he tried." he muttered glancing at his hands on his lap. "I just wish it were different, that he would've tried to raise us into a normal life like the rest of the world but instead became obsessed with hunting that demon, and he messed us up." he chuckled bitterly. "Sometimes I want to forgive him, sometimes I do, but sometimes I think he doesn't deserve it."

"Don't you talk about dad like that, Sam, there are things you will never know about him." he clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "You don't-" he took a deep breath, "It wasn't his fault." Sam nodded.

"He tried."


	23. Me and You, You and Me

_Me and You, You and Me_

_**Sabriel**_

Summer days are hot and dry in Texas, the earth cracks from lack of rain and the wind picks up the dust, sometimes creating a violent sandstorm which hinders the day for the residents in the town. There is a small, white house far up the hill of Colorado town with Hickory and Mesquite trees surrounding it. The intense rays of the Sun penetrate the glass hitting the floor and reflecting the light up on the ceiling.

His eyes glance around the room noticing the furniture, decorations and cleanliness; a grandfather clock stands by the left window, constantly tick tocking, ding donging and breaking the direst silence in the room. A mischievous smile curls at the corners of his lips as he tiptoes towards the sofa where a young man lies snoozing.

He brings his hand to his pocket, retrieving a folded piece of paper with scribbles written on it yet he disregards it, focusing instead on folding it to his own desired shape before placing it on the tip of the young man's nose. He stirs in his position crinkling his nose; he laughs louder than intended, which wakes him up.

"Oh crap!" he runs out the door as the man stands up confused.

"You'll pay for this, Sam!" Gabriel yells listening to the loud foot stomps from the other room. "You can't hide!"

"It wasn't me!" his muffled voice is heard, he rolls his eyes before storming out of the room in search for him.

The cold air from the vents hits the back of his head, drying the droplet of sweat forming at the crook of his neck; it sends a shiver down his spine yet it is a pleasant sensation. His feet carefully carry him to the next room without making a sound, he can hear the quiet laughter and soft breathing of the man hiding behind the door yet he pretends to be oblivious.

"I hate when he hides because I can never find him." he sighs dramatically. "Alright, I won't kill you, but you have to make dinner tonight." his arms fold across his chest. "You can come out now, you have my word." There is a moment of silence and nothing happens. "Come on, Moose, you can't be that scared of me, can you?" he teases with a smirk.

"What if I am scared of you?" he pokes his head from behind the door before realising he has given away his secret hideout and curses himself, making the boy laugh. "Shut up, Gabe, you're mean." he lets his bottom lip drop like a pout.

"I'm mean? You're the one who woke me up." his index pokes Sam's chest and he rubs the spot with a snarl.

"It's funny, I think I'm funny." he shrugs with a smile.

"You're not funny." Gabriel shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

"You're just saying that because you envy my sense of humour." he touches the tip of his nose with his fingertip. "Don't worry, I can live with that."

"Yeah, well, good and you have to make dinner for me now because I'm hungry."

"Fine." he presses his lips against Gabriel's forehead before turning to leave the room. "Come and help me though."

"I'll make hot tea!" he follows him into the kitchen with a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

It is an understatement to say the kitchen place is a mess, simply because there are peas, carrots and other vegetables scattered on the floor, celery sticks across the room, flour covering the counter and the stove, and their hair. The scent of the air is of burnt eggs, flour, and Lapsang Souchong.

"I- I like the tea." he speaks timidly sitting on the sofa, holding his tea cup tightly, his head is bowed as if ashamed yet he knows Gabriel is not truly angry.

"Wanna order some food?" he turns his head to look at Sam with a smile.

"Sure." he returns the gesture. "Can I have more of this tea, please?"

"As much as you want." he pokes his left cheek where a dimple forms. "There is no such thing as too much tea."

"Need some help making it?" he smiles as Gabriel stands up.

"Don't even think about it!" he points at the man with his index. "Tomorrow you are going back to being yourself and I am back to being me!"

"You got a taste of your own medicine." Sam chuckles, "How does it feel to be me for a day?"

"Boring." he crosses his arms feigning Sam's angry expression. "I don't like being you."

"Why, Gabe, I am hurt!" Sam places his hand over his heart dramatically.

"You are such a drama queen." he rolls his eyes, later realising it was a reflection of himself and smiles embarrassed. "Okay, I think we've had enough for one day. Can we go back to being ourselves?" he draws his bottom lip between his teeth awaiting for a response; Sam nods extending his arms towards Gabriel who happily complies.

"I like it better when you are you and I am me." they press their foreheads together as Gabriel accommodates himself upon his boyfriend's lap.

"Me too." he mutters against Sam's lips. "And by the way, I mixed your clothes in the washer so your socks are now pink."

"I'm gonna kill you!" Gabriel stands up before Sam can get a hold of his hand and runs to hide in one of the rooms as the other chases him. Night has fallen, and along with the sound wind, the crickets and branches creaking, the shatter of a broken vase is heard, followed by words which eventually turn into erotic sounds that extend for an amount of time, then a calm breathing that fades into daylight.


	24. Fields of Gold

_**Fields of Gold**_

There is a house on top of a hill in the far west part of Texas where the summers are dry, hot and windy, the clouds rarely cover the sun and the earth cracks from the heat. The old mesquite trees stand one by one over the vast and extensive land like forgotten soldiers in a field. The house is ancient but well-kept and inhabited by its servants, the owners and memories alive. Winters come and go and the house still stands, there awaiting for the day it will not longer be of use. There lives a lover who sits by the balcony each afternoon, and he holds his lover's hand, and he listens to him speak, and he tells stories of their love and each day the smile is there because they are together.

He sits on his rocking chair listening to the sound of the wind in the distance, the old record player playing its tunes, the footsteps come and go and the pulsating sound of his own heart in his head; his eyelids are heavy and rests them for a moment before a knock at his door disrupts his peace.

"Sir, it's time for your afternoon tea." a young maiden holds a silver platter with fine porcelain and steaming brewed tea, her kind eyes stare at him with an emotion he has seen in others yet never comprehends the reason.

"Tea. Of course, thank you, Becky." he motions for her to place it by his side. "Did you bring one for Cas?"

"I did, sir." Becky smiles as she pours tea on both cups. "And here is your pie, and this one is for him." he holds her hand in between both of his for a moment in gratitude, she smiles at the gesture then leaves.

"Dean, do you remember when we were young and you chased me through the fields of barley in Montana?" Castiel turns to the man sitting next to him with reminiscence in his voice.

"I remember." he chuckles. "You could run very fast but I would always find you."

"Yes." he nods with a smile. "Then I got lost once, and you spent the evening looking for me and you found me when I'd lost hope." his gaze lowered to his hands resting on the small table between him and Dean, reaching for the other man's. "You didn't give up."

"You would've done the same for me." he stares at his old, wrinkled hand intertwined with Castiel's. "Then I found you lying on the grass with tears in your eyes, when you saw me you ran towards me and didn't let go for an hour. I could hear my heart beating loud inside my chest, I was so relieved that I'd found you."

"You say I fell asleep."

"After crying for so long, you looked exhausted and I carried you home." a small smile forms at the corners of his lips, his eyes fixed beyond the land outside the balcony focused on the past. "I never wanted to let you out of my sight again since then, till this day, I don't think I've done so." Castiel laughs tugging slightly Dean's hand.

"You are too overprotective of me still, I am what? Seventy-four?"

"You are still that clumsy little boy to me, Cas." Dean laughs as his lips touch the soft skin of Castiel's knuckles.

"And you are still that haughty pretty boy, Dean Winchester." he lets his other hand rest between Dean and his for a while as the minutes pass and they listen, they listen to the children run on the vast land in Montana, the sound of the crows in the distance, the god of wind marching through the fields of barley making them bow in respect, the laughter of two boys learning of life, learning to fall in love.

* * *

"Sir?" he can hear the faint sound of Becky's voice. "Sir, I am just going to check your temperature, alright?" Dean nods making out a blurred image of the young girl, even as he blinks to clear his vision, it is impossible to see as he used to.

"Where's Cas?" his voice is hoarse, exhausted and slurred. "He said he'd be here, where's Cas?" she stops arranging the thermometer to look at him, the tears forming behind those tired green eyes, the life slowly fading out of him yet the apparent hope to find his lover next to him; it tugs at her heart with ache yet she smiles blinking the tears away.

"He's next to you, sir, always has been." Dean smiles.

"Cas?" he turns his head to the side and sees him there, sitting on a chair by the lamp table.

"I told you I'd be here." He smiles.

"You did."

"Do you want me to leave you alone, sir?" she questions without releasing his hand.

"No." he shakes his head against his pillow, "I want you to stay. Can you see how young he is? Can you see his skin, Becky?" she nods quietly. "I decayed through the years but he always stayed like this, so young and healthy."

"What makes you say that?" Castiel leans forward furrowing his brows.

"You always were young in my mind, like the last day I saw you…" he pauses as his failing memory searches for a date. "Like- like the day you said you loved me, the day it all started, our life." Becky sits on the edge of the bed listening as he narrates the day of his wedding; his voice echoes throughout the room, then it goes silent with one last one fading from his lips. "Castiel."

She sits there holding Dean's hand as it grows cold, her tears unable to stop at the realisation he knew all this time Castiel had died at the age of twenty-five in the battlefield, he had blamed himself for letting the love of his life out of his sight for a moment only to find him on the ground with a bullet through his chest, the blood staining the earth like a canvas. He remembered the young boy lying on the grass with tears in his eyes calling for Dean, then it was no longer a field of barley, it was a field in Vietnam, a foreign land where Castiel reached towards him…because he was lost.


	25. How I Met Your Father

_**How I Met Your Father**_

**DISCLAIMER: I am not responsible if anyone explodes reading this.**

Castiel sat at the far end of the bench alone in a corner of the cathedral, his eyes admiring the stories being told by the stained-glass windows and the engravings on the walls. His hands rested on his lap as his fingers fiddles with the corners of his suit jacket, the bishop's voice was only a whisper to him, another muffled sound in the distance that disturbed his peace of mind. There was a chandelier hanging right above his head and he wondered if God were to punish him for disagreeing with 'His Word' and make it fall on him, or whose job was it to light the candles so far above.

A sigh escaped from his lips feeling boredom creep into him, it had been an hour since the service had started and his mind had faded into its own reality during the first five minutes and was thankful his mother or father allowed him to sit alone, his siblings sat together and far away from him.

The smell of wax, varnish, antique books and different varieties of perfumes reached his nostrils and he cringed at the strong scents for they were unpleasant to him. He sighed once more and let his shoulders relax against the back of the bench, he threw his head back and to the side, that's when something, rather someone caught his attention; a young boy of his age who had been observing him for a while stared at him, he held a drawing pad and a pen. Castiel squinted his eyes attempting to see if he could take a glimpse of what the boy was drawing but he was too far, the boy with dark-blonde hair and green eyes covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile and held the drawing pad for Castiel to see. It was brief but Castiel recognised the person in the drawing, he smiled holding his thumbs up for the boy who in return smiled.

He had dozed off during the last thirty minutes of service, his mind cursing the bishop and his hypocritical words; a warm hand shook his shoulder, he blinked the sleep away and let out a yawn. The boy with the green eyes sat next to him with his drawing pad as the people in the church gathered to say goodbye and leave. Castiel glanced around in search for his parents, then at the boy and smiled.

"I'm Castiel Novak." he held his hand out.

"Dean Winchester." he shook the boy's hand. "Do you have to leave yet?"

"I don't think so, my parents always stay to speak with everyone after service and my siblings wander off."

"Mine do too."

"Can I see the drawing?" Castiel pointed at the drawing pad .

"Um okay." Dean removed the drawing pencil from the inside and handed Castiel the pad.

The first pages were drafts or sketches of people, animals and objects but they began to take life in other pages; Castiel noticed several sketches of the same boy throughout pages in different positions and different expressions.

"That's my brother Sammy." Dean pointed to the drawing. "He likes to model for me." he chuckled.

"How old is he?"

"He's eight years old, but smart." Castiel could see the pride in his eyes as he spoke. "He skipped a grade last year because he was too advanced."

"That's impressive!" Dean nodded still smiling.

"Dean, we have to go now." a man in a suit called for the boy, Dean sighed and nodded.

"Are you coming next week?" he furrowed his brows expecting a 'yes'.

"We always come." Castiel returned the drawing pad to Dean. "Will you?"

"Yes, mum never misses service." he pressed his lips into a thin line. "So, I guess I have to go now. It was nice to meet you, Castiel." he scratched the back of his neck. "Um, bye." he held out his hand towards the boy.

"It was nice to meet you too, Dean." he took Dean's hand holding it for a moment. "Bye." a smile crept upon their lips as they stared at each other.

"Um, I kinda need my hand to go…" Dean laughed.

"Oh, right." Castiel face palmed himself. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Bye." Dean waved.

"Bye."

Castiel ran his fingers through Emma's silky, blonde hair, her ruffled dress covering her thin legs dressed in white tights; a smile adorned her small face and she pressed her lips against his cheek, then wrapped her arms around him.

"And that's how papa and I met." he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Is that why you have that drawing in your room, daddy?" Castiel nodded.

"Yes."

"Okay, you two, time for dinner, come on." Dean lifted Emma from his husband's lap; they shared a smile before entangling their fingers and disappearing into the dining room.


	26. A Letter For Dad

Hey dad,

I've never done this, written a letter to anyone apart from that time in middle school, but I never showed you; it was a silly class project that ended up wrinkled in the trashcan at the motel. I know you're never going to read this, or even know what I have to say, but I guess I should get it over with and let it out. Wherever you are, I hope you are finally at peace, I hope you found- mum. I hope you two are together, Sam and I want to see you again someday. Hopefully not soon, Death is getting tired of seeing us too often, he even invited me for pizza once, as crazy as that sounds.

Things did not improve after you died, or even after we killed Azazel, in fact, it was just the beginning of everything; the end of the world. I wish you could see how far we've come, how much we learned since you left, and we suffered it all, we endured it and we made it. Together, Sam and I. I promised you I would take care of him, and God, did I try. Sometimes I feel like I failed him, but then I remember, he is the man who saved the world. Heaven and Hell, we took them all down. I didn't have to kill my brother like you said I would if there was no way to save him; I couldn't do it, I couldn't because I knew there was hope for him, he could be saved… I believed in him, I knew he could overcome it and he did.

There are times I remember the look of desperation in his eyes, the way the innocence faded from them and his semblance became more and more worn out and it hurt not to be able to keep him like that little boy I had known. The little boy that used to wait by the window for you to come back after a hunt, the little boy I used to hold when there was a storm or when he had nightmares or when he was upset by things beyond my reach. I couldn't protect him from losing that innocence. I knew he had to one day but I never knew it would hurt as much as it did; I realised in that moment, when he looked into my eyes from where he stood ready to jump into the pit that he was not little Sammy anymore, he was Sam, Sam Winchester. A hero.

Sometimes I wish I could be more like him, that I could have stood up for myself like he did with you. I was a coward, I was too submissive and foolish. I always wanted to be the perfect son you wanted, the one you could look at with pride in your eyes. It angers me that I only saw it before you died, just not exactly there. It was between pride and a kind of sadness I've only seen in Sam's eyes. There are wounds that are healing, and there are others that still raw. I remember listening in the dark at night your silent prayers to God as you sat next to Sam and I; I heard how you wept in silence to not wake us up praying that this was all a nightmare and you lay next to mum. I heard your promises to her, to be a better father but, I also heard the words of hatred for yourself knowing you couldn't keep that promise because you couldn't give us a better life. I denied it for years, kept telling myself that you were a good dad, that this was as better as things could get. I denied the abuse you put me through because I admired you, I admired your 'valour', because I believed you cared and wanted us to be safe in reality you were probably just trying to run away from yourself because you couldn't handle your own grief, your pain, problems, your failures; you were just a coward. I denied the pain I felt when I saw the disappointment in your eyes when I failed you, it was my fault and I needed to be better, be the soldier you needed me to be. It was never enough, and you will never know, or probably did how much you harmed me. You destroyed me, dad.

I hated you. God, for a long time I felt nothing but hatred towards you, even if I never let Sam see it. I couldn't think of you without feeling this anger, this hatred inside of me about to burst. I wanted to scream, I wanted you to be there so I could say to your face all these things, all that you did wrong, things you should have fixed before dying. I guess with time I came to understand that you did as much as your limits allowed you, I doubt it. I remember the look in your eyes sometimes, when I sit in silence next to Sam, or when he falls asleep researching for a hunt on the sofa, how you used to look at us when you thought I couldn't see; the look in your eyes when you came home from work and you'd pick me up. Then I'd look at you and you'd turn your head, or that look would fade from your eyes, it was cold and too formal like a good soldier.

Sometimes I understood you, and sometimes I didn't. I know now that you felt exactly how Sam and I feel, the abandonment of a father, the loss of someone you loved, the loss of your sanity and the fear of desperately wanting to protect what little you had. We met him- Henry Winchester… I wish you knew he did not abandon you but it was just a mess, something that should have never happened but it messed you up. You were not as healthy as you should have been; you never saw me awake hearing the sound of your voice from where you slept calling for mum, the never-ending nightmares, the inebriation, the repressed emotions, your obsessions driven by grief. It was all so unhealthy that I worried about you, I was only a little boy but I knew you were not okay. I hated seeing that bottle of alcohol in your hand, or the beers in the fridge. I guess it was your way of coping, and I get it. I learned it from you and it was killing me, I never truly enjoyed the taste but it numbed me, I guess you felt the same. I wish the last thought you had before dying had been about Heaven.

I never thanked you for giving up your life for me, I thought I was not worth it, but you did. I'm sorry because fate and life treated us the way it did, I'm sorry because happiness was not meant for the Winchesters. And I'm sorry that I couldn't forgive you for a long time, you didn't deserve it. But I think I'm healing, I'm ready to let go. It isn't worth holding on to all this grief, this anger and ache inside me. I have things to worry about , things that are here now and I can deal with. All in all, I want to say, I know you abused Sam and I in almost everyway possible, caused me all these traumas that could have been prevented, but I know, inside, that you tried to be our father… and I forgive you.

Until we meet again, dad, I know this time you will be there for Sam and I… mum too. Happy father's day.

Yours, Dean Winchester.


	27. Not Asia!

_**Not Asia!**_

He sighed letting his head drop on the counter as he arranged himself on the stool and his bag fell on the floor by his feet. His arms folded around his head and his eyes closed as he listened to the audience around him; there was an old jukebox at the far corner of the parlour that played songs from the twentieth century only, not that anyone complained for the lack of modern music but they were preferred by most customers.  
The ice cream parlour was a fifty year old small shop at the centre of the town and three blocks away from the local high school, its customers varied of age but on certain days and afternoons it was mostly filled by teens or college students. Bobby Singer, the owner of the shop, spent most of his time in the back mixing ingredients for his unique flavours for the ice cream, or preparing the cream sodas, making pizzas or other refreshments. There were four other employees attending the shop, one helping Bobby, one waitress, one waiter and another one attending the bar.

Sam groaned exhausted, the sweat at the line of his hair began to dry as the cool air from the vent hit him, his heart rate slowed down, and his limbs ached after running from his classroom to the parlour non-stop. He cursed under his breath wishing Dean were next to him instead of home with a broken leg. He felt lucky to have had escaped from Lucian and Azazel, the school bullies, chasing him; he shook with fear and paranoia as if they had followed him into the shop and waited for him to leave and attack.

"Rough day?" He looked up to find a pair of amber eyes staring at him with sympathy. He nodded. "Do you want anything to drink? You seem to really need one." The boy furrowed his brows examining Sam.

"Just water. Lots of water." Sam panted feeling his throat to dry.

"Got it." He smiled, then turned to the bar retrieving a polished glass to fill it up with ice and water.

"Is there a public phone here?" Sam took the water from the boy's hands.

"Not that I'm aware of but if you need it, you can use my mobile." He shrugged almost apologetic.

"Please, um, Gabriel?" he read the nametag pinned to the boy's chest.

"Sure." he reached into his pocket, then handed the mobile to Sam. Gabriel returned to attend a costumer leaving Sam by himself.

Sam sighed in relief, then dialled the number to his father's mobile hoping he would answer instead of receiving voicemail as it usually happened. He glanced around the shop noticing it was rush hour and students started packing up the place, there were a few faces he recognised.

"Hello?" the voice on the other line answered.

"Dad? It's me, Sam." he spoke loud enough for the other man to hear.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Dad, I'm at Bobby's place, can you come pick me up? It's an emergency." he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Son, I'm at work, are you hurt?"

"No." he sighed, "But I will be if you don't come and pick me up, I- there's these two guys from school, the ones Dean told you about." he closed his eyes resting his forehead on his palm.

"The bullies? Okay, I get out in about forty minutes, you think you can stay there until then?"

"Yeah, just don't forget and go straight home, okay?"

"Hey, I never forget!" Sam chuckled and there was a moment of silence, "That was one time." John cleared his throat.

"Okay, dad." he smirked, "Thanks."

"No problem, kiddo!" Sam could hear the smile in his voice. He tapped the 'end call' button on the screen and set the mobile on the counter waiting for the boy to finish attending a customer.

"Thank you." he slid it towards Gabriel.

"Sorry to eavesdrop but were you running away from someone?" Gabriel rested both elbows on the counter in front of Sam and leant forward.

"Um." he nodded with embarrassment. "They are seniors." he excused, Gabriel nodded comprehensively.

"Would one of them happen to be Lucian Novak?" he squinted at the boy, Sam's eyes widened, then turned towards the door hoping he was not standing there.

"Ye-yes." he shook his head and sighed in relief.

"Damn it." Gabriel cursed under his breath. "Sorry about Lucian." he seemed apologetic, "He's my older brother."

"Oh." Sam's lips formed the shape of an 'O' as he stared at Gabriel frightened.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I am nothing like him." Gabriel gave Sam a small smile. "I've told him to stop picking on lower class-men but he's just so stubborn. If you'd like, I can tell him to leave you alone? I am able to manipulate him sometimes."

"Really?" Gabriel nodded. "You think he really would leave me alone?"

"Yeah." he drew his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'll tell him you're my friend and my friends are off limits." Sam's smile grew wider. "We should introduce properly since we are friends now. I'm Gabriel Novak." He extended his hand towards Sam who politely shook it.

"Sam Winchester. It's nice to have a friend like you, Gabriel." a smile adorned his lips as he held on to the boy's hand for a moment longer before realising Gabriel need it back to attend a customer. "Sorry."

"It's fine." he laughed. "I'll make you a milkshake." he winked at Sam before turning to the customer.

A group of popular boys from school busted through the doors with their slicked back hair, their impeccable white shoes and their letter jackets with their last names stitched to the back. Sam sighed with annoyance and returned to stare at Gabriel preparing two drinks, a mango smoothie and a milkshake. The boys occupied the tables near the jukebox and the room became three times louder than it had previously been, one of them stood up and walked towards the machine, then dropped the coins into it.

"Play Zeppelin!" one of them shouted.

"Shut up, no, play REO Speedwag-"

"Dude! NO!" his friends yelled at the same time, some of them slapped the boy on the back of his head and he snarled at them rubbing at the spot.

"All of you shut the f- up! I'll choose whatever I want." he flipped them off, then turned to the jukebox. "This one!" he snapped his fingers, then returned to his seat.

_I never meant to be so bad to you, one thing I said that I would never do. One look from you and I would fall from grace, and that would wipe this smile right from my face._

_And incidence arose from circumstance, one thing lead to another, we were so young and we would scream together songs unsung._

Sam groaned wishing to disappear from the room; the light reflecting from the floor hit his eyes making him squint, the loud conversations around him made his head spin with confusion, and the song that started playing was a reminder of what an awful person he thought he was.

"I hate this song." he let his forehead hit the counter and groaned covering his ears.

"It's not a bad song." Gabriel slid the milkshake towards Sam and chuckled.

"It's awful." he looked up, "I'm awful."

"What makes you think that?" Gabriel frowned.

"I don't think, I know." he took the milkshake and pulled it closer to him. "I was angry at my brother today because he was making me late and I have an extra class early mornings on Tuesdays, so he thought it would be funny to hide my bag." he took a sip of the milkshake. "This is good." Gabriel smiled then urged him too continue. "So I threatened to push him down the stairs if he didn't give it back, but he kept laughing, then he decided to go downstairs for breakfast and I pushed him but I didn't expect his leg to snap in two."

"So what does that have to do with the song?"

"It's the song that plays really loud as his alarm every single day, I hate it."

"You're not awful, Sam, it was unintentional and he should learn not to mess with you." Gabriel gave Sam a sympathetic smile.

"That doesn't mean it's not my fault, and even with a broken leg he'll still want to get even." he took the straw between his lips without taking a sip. Gabriel eyed him curiously, then a blush crept upon his cheeks, he cleared his throat and looked away.

"You should just apologise, maybe he won't want to get even."

"Knowing how Dean is, I don't think so." he picked up the cherry with his finger and put it between his lips.

"Um." Gabriel scratched the back of his neck, "If he does, I could help you prank him good." he looked away from Sam attempting to hide the rose tint creeping on his face. "I always do that to Lucian." he shrugged.

"Hmm, I think I might consider your offer if he retaliates." Sam smiled and took a bite of the cherry. He chuckled quietly noticing Gabriel's eyes on him, he tapped the half-bit fruit against his lips twice, then ate it all. "Do you go to my school?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm in second year but I get out an hour early because I have too many credits."

"Lucky. How come I've never seen you around?"

"Most of my classes are on the west building. I'm assuming you are a first year student?" Sam nodded. "That's why." he leant forward. "You look better."

"What?" Sam's knit his eyebrows.

"You came here looking all flushed and tired." he grinned. "You look better now."

"Oh." the younger boy smiled, "Um, thank you? How much do I owe you?" he pointed towards the half-empty milkshake.

"It's on me." he winked at Sam; the boy's face flushed yet he smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." a customer approached and Gabriel left to attend him. "Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"Never!" Sam put his hand over his heart bowing his head. "My dad doesn't get here for another twenty minutes." he smiled.

"Okay." Gabriel nodded with a smile taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Okay." Sam left the smile on his face and continued sipping on the milkshake. His knees trembled not from fear or cold but from the nerves and the anxiety at the pit of his stomach; it was something good. He felt better than he had this morning, the guilt had eased a little and there was a possibility that Lucian would stop making him his target every day. Tuesday was not so bad a day for once, and he liked that because he met Gabriel.


	28. Mutants High School AU

**_High School - Mutant!Supernatural_**

* * *

Castiel gasped at the sharp pain on his abdomen, his hands grasped the edges of the trashcan to keep himself from falling to the floor, he could taste the blood in his mouth and one of his eyes was beginning to bruise in result of a broken nose.

"Are you going to talk to me that way again, faggotstiel?" Dick smirked grabbing a handful of hair from Castiel's head making him look into his eyes.

"You can hit me all you want, but that doesn't make you more than I am, you are not my level." Castiel spat in Dick's face. He scrunched his nose and wiped the blood from his eye before he punched Castiel one more time.

"Will you ever learn? What will I do with you?" he tapped his chin with his index as if in thought. "Ah, I have a great idea." he chuckled, "Come on, 'Angel', we have an appointment with Alas-" his words were cut off by a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him go, Dick!" a fist met his jaw and he fell to the floor, taking Castiel along.

"Butt out, Winchester, this doesn't concern you!" he spat blood on the floor, his other hand released Castiel.

"I think it does." Dean nodded.

"You asked for it." Dick stood up balling his fists as they set on fire and his eyes turned black. Castiel leant against the wall for support as his lip healed slowly and his broken nose put itself back in its place. Dean glanced at the boy, then back at Dick just in time to avoid with his adamantium claws a ball of fire aimed at his face. Dick continued throwing balls of fire at Dean but kept missing, one was aimed at his torso, another one at his feet, and another one at his face, which he returned to Dick.

"Come on, is that all you got?" he laughed. Castiel stared wide eyed as Dick's body set on fire and stood from the ground.

"Dean, please stop! He's not worth fighting with." he pleaded.

"I know, I'm just having fun." the cocky teen shrugged, "I've beat him before." he winked at the boy.

"Dean!" Castiel pushed him to avoid the fire thrown his way, falling instead on Castiel. He could feel it burning his flesh, like thousands of needles penetrating the skin, then ice mixing with fire which stung making him scream.

"Cas, Cas, get up, come on, buddy." Dean yelled from somewhere in the alley, Castiel could hear metal clash against something, then explosions, groans of pain and then a thud.

He fluttered his eyes open feeling the drops of rain hit the burnt flesh as it healed, he groaned struggling to stand up and he felt two hands under his arms keeping him from falling.

"How're you doing, Cas? Can you walk?" he blinked the water away from his eyes.

"You are an idiot, Dean." he pushed him away angrily.

"Ow, stop it, dammit!" Dean covered his head with his claws trying to avoid the hail from hitting his head. "Cas, stop! He's gone, see?"

"That doesn't make you any less of an idiot." he froze the water droplets hanging from the tips of Dean's claws.

"Ow, would you stop it?!" he tried to separate his claws that had been frozen together.

"No."

"Fine. You should be thanking me." he snarled.

"I didn't ask you to save me, I could have done it myself." Castiel crossed his arms and turned to leave with Dean following.

"Then why didn't you?"

"He isn't worth it." he sighed. "He enjoys feeling superior to others because of his abilities. I do not understand how making others feel less is being 'superior' yet you seem to do the same, Dean. That is rather upsetting." he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"I'm not like him, Cas." Dean kicked a can in front of him, "I don't pride myself for being a mutant, I didn't ask to be like this and I don't want to be, but I guess I gotta live with it."

"Then why do you do that?" Castiel kicked the can Dean had kicked.

"Do what?" he kicked it again before Castiel could.

"Fight with others just to show how powerful you are and by doing so put yourself at their level." he kicked the can once again.

"I don't know. I only fight when I see others picking on you." Castiel stopped abruptly causing Dean to bump into him.

"Are you saying I am the cause of it all?" he frowned.

"No, no, that's not what I meant." he shook his head chuckling, "I mean, I can't stand seeing others step all over you like you are dirt, Cas, you are way powerful than you seem, hell you could even freeze an entire town if you wanted to, and I don't get why you just let them treat you this way." he let his shoulders drop, Castiel's eyes softened and he took a step towards the boy.

"I don't need to show others what I am to gain power, I don't need it. I want to seem normal, I try to be, and honestly, I only care of what you and Sam think of me, the rest of the world can go to hell." He stepped on the can in front of him, then kicked it far from their reach. Dean took Castiel's hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze in assurance.

"Just don't let them hurt you anymore, okay? I know you can avoid fighting." Castiel nodded with a small smile on his lips. "Let's go home, mum was making apple pie when I left, it should be cool by now."

"If there's any left." Castiel laughed. He froze a drop of rain and caught it in his hand to throw at Dean, then began to run as fast as he could.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Dean yelled catching up with the boy.

"Stop complaining, Winchester!" Castiel laughed running ahead as he froze the puddles of water around him. "By the time you get home you won't find any pie!"

"Son of a bitch, you better not eat it again! I'll kill you, Cas!" He slipped on a frozen puddle and hit his head on the ground.

"If you can catch me!" Castiel's voice echoed from somewhere.

"You fucker, you are so not sleeping on my bed tonight." He groaned standing up.


	29. Black Dog

**Inspired by Black Dog by Led Zeppelin**

* * *

The temperatures during summer reached forty degrees Celsius; the days which were spent sitting in a room with the windows open, a pack of beer in ice, jeans, no shirt, and company sitting under the ceiling fan with a joint between their fingers. The record player rested on the table in the small room lit by the sunlight penetrating the glass and hit the wooden floor, only to be reflected on the ceiling and spread throughout the room hitting Dean's eyes as he sat on the chair next to the table with his fingers around an ice cold beer. His Adam's apple rose and fell as he swallowed the cool burning liquid, his eyelids closed briefly before he turned his head towards Castiel who searched through the vinyls for an appropriate song.

He observed the curve of Castiel's ass when the man swayed to the song's rhythm humming the lyrics quietly before he took the joint between his lips only to release the smoke into the air with his head thrown back; Dean smirked at the sight of the smooth golden skin of Castiel's neck being exposed so sinfully imploring to be touched, the muscles on his arms and torso visible as he moved, the low line of his jeans exposing band of his pants around his hips, and the way his dark, long lashes fluttered open as he lost himself in the euphoria.

_Oh, oh, child, way you shake that thing, gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting._

A drop of condensation rolled down the glass unto Dean's exposed chest making his eyes break away from Castiel's body unto his own, he brought his fingers to the droplet on his peck to clean it but was interrupted with a hand on top of his. Castiel straddled Dean's hips as he trailed the tip of his finger from the man's chest to his jaw, and settled on his parted lips; he took the joint between his lips inhaling a good amount of smoke and leant closer to the other Dean's face releasing it into his mouth.

_Hey, baby, oh, baby, pretty baby, tell me that you'll do me now. Hey, baby, oh, baby, pretty baby, do me like you do me now._

Castiel smirked at the sight of Dean's pupils dilating before he released the smoke into the air, he grinded his hips against Dean's in sync with the music playing in the background. Dean's hands moved to the small of Castiel's back thrusting his naked torso against his own; he felt the heat rise from his neck to his face, their heartbeat collided and he smiled at the thump he heard in his head.

_I don't know but I been told, a big-legged woman ain't got no soul._

Dean inhaled the smoke from the man's mouth feeling the exhilaration through his body, he chuckled releasing it into the air before capturing his lips with his own, they moved roughly, and needy; Dean could feel the warmth of Castiel's breath brushing the top of his lip, the aroma of marijuana and beer drugging him, literally, he threw his head back as his eyelids closed and his head spun, Castiel took the opportunity to nip on the man's throat, sucking gently on his Adam's apple, then trailed the tip of his tongue along Dean's jaw savouring the salty taste of sweat and bitter aftershave as his hips grinded faster against Dean's. Their breathing patterns sped up, the temperature rose incessantly as skin met skin burning like a flame devouring dead twigs in the conflagration; a soft moan escaped from Castiel's mouth as Dean took his bottom lip between his teeth, he gasped shakily and dug his fingers into Dean's shoulders.

The melody had faded in the background, the tail burnt up lay on the solid ground, the already warm bottle of beer rested on the table as condensation rolled down to the bottom creating a circular puddle around it. Castiel rested his forehead on Dean's as he panted, the ecstasy overwhelmed him as his chest rose and feel in rhythm to the other man's.

"Damn, Cas, if there weren't people in the house I'd fuck your brains out." he chuckled tightening his grip around Castiel's back, his thumbs caressed the smooth curve of his spine and the tips of his fingers fiddled with the edge of the man's pants.

"Well then gag me." he groaned with lust.

"Okay." Dean gasped staring into Castiel's eyes as the azure pigments disappeared overtaken by the expanding pupil.


End file.
